Miss Wings: Three's Company
by thetobimeister
Summary: When trouble stirs in the lives of Jack, Janet, and Chrissy, a quiet angel named Monica is sent in to help out and tell them that God loves them. How will Chrissy handle heartbreak and responsibility. Will Jack finally find true love? Will Godzilla rise out of the ocean and destroy Santa Monica? Read to find out...
1. Chapter 1: Good Morning, Angels

**Chapter 1**

It was the calm, chilly part of the morning when the sun was only a wee bit of orange making its way across the horizon. A steady splashing was heard as the sea gently caressed the deserted beach of Santa Monica. The white clouds and the peaceful wind set in their places in order to make this day a beautiful experience, just as God's word had spoken to them.

A pair of elegant, tranquil women rested on the soft, cool sand of the beach. One woman looked over the horizon with an innocent grin as her dark red hair slowly blew around her head, while the other woman, quite a bit older, looked proud yet concerned about her auburn companion. Their eyes met once or twice, but they didn't exchange a word. For the beauty of the beach seemed to put the pair in a speechless trance.

"Why do you think God made the ocean so big, Tess?" the young one asked carelessly with her Irish accent after a long silence.

"I think he made it so big to remind everyone just how small they really are," Tess suggested sternly. "People get so full of themselves that they forget to praise their Maker. The enormity of the ocean puts them back in their place. Swallows them up."

"Hmm." The auburn woman pulled her knees up to her chin and stared into the horizon. "Well, Tess, maybe God made the ocean so vast to show how incredible His love for His children is. His love is truly a devoted, ferocious, adoring ocean. That's what I think."

"Monica, I do believe you have a sane mind upon your shoulders," Tess chuckled happily. "Just remember to keep it on during this next case."

Monica's intense focus broke for a moment as she turned to Tess. "What is my next case, Tess?"

"Her name is Christmas Noelle Snow," Tess informed humorously. "Quite a name, right? Her friends call her Chrissy. She is about to face a very tough time, do you hear me? Something is about to turn her whole world upside down."

"What's going to happen to her, Tess?" Monica asked with compassion and concern, goggling at her friend for answers.

"You'll find out soon enough," Tess urged patiently. "You'll affect more than one person. But, I will tell you that the cause of this case should take…nine months."

Monica gave a confused stare at Tess for a moment, and then her eyes widened. They looked at each other for a few seconds, eagerly exchanging information with just their eyes. Monica's atmosphere seemed to change into a sincere attitude of excitement.

"Oh, Tess, there's going to be a newborn baby?" Monica smiled blissfully. "Goodness, how wonderful."

"Of all the babies born on this earth, you stop to rejoice in one's coming," Tess laughed. "I thank the Lord every day for that quality in you."

"I can hardly wait nine months to see him…or her," Monica admitted sheepishly.

"Well, you're going to have to wait," Tess insisted, ignoring Monica's pleading eyes. "I won't tell you the gender or the due date. As angels, Monica, we must have patience. Patience is a virtue, you know."

"Yes, Tess," Monica grinned obediently.

"Alright, Miss Wings," Tess cheerfully whispered. "Go and fly."


	2. Chapter 2: As the Apartments Turn

**Chapter 2**

Knock, knock!

I leaped up from the couch of my new apartment awkwardly. As graceless as an intoxicated lemur, I stumbled to the door, feeling the anticipation building up inside of me. Was this finally an answer to my ad in the paper? The rent of this apartment building near the shore of Santa Monica was quite expensive, and I desperately needed a roommate.

I stood at the door shakily as numbers raced through my head. The money I had was only good for one month's rent, my job didn't start for a few more days, and what they paid women as secretaries wasn't much. This would be my new roommate. It would have to be.

Upon finally opening the door, I was met by a beautiful, innocent-looking blond. She stared at me happily with her shining blue eyes as her hair seemed to bounce with her jumpy atmosphere. A steady silence stayed with the two of us for a long moment, and I became a bit impatient.

"Um, hello," I uttered finally.

"Hi," she grinned merrily. "My name is Chrissy Snow. You're my new neighbor."

"Oh, well, I guess I am," I chuckled bashfully, finding her statement a bit humorous. "My name is Brooke Castle. It's nice to meet you. Would you like to come in?"

"Sure!"

As my odd new guest entered the living room, I started to scramble around, grabbing number-covered papers that were messily scattered on the tables and floor. Chrissy seemed to pay no attention to my frantic behavior or the mess. But she seemed quite interested in the layout of the apartment. Her observant eyes started to concern me.

"So, you're going to come over to our place for dinner tonight, right?" she remarked suddenly.

"Um, well, is that an invite?" I asked.

"Well, of course!" she replied with a surprised look. "Me and my roommates will be eating at seven. So you should come over at six-thirty, okay?"

"Sure," I smiled nervously, finding her kindness a bit startling.

"Good," she said with a wide grin, heading towards the door. "See you then. Oh, and it's apartment number 201, alright?"

"Okay."

This mysterious neighbor left me a bit speechless, but as soon as she exited, I was left to my own devices. Calculators. Yet again I started to set strict budgets and limitations for my money, expecting the worst out of the economy and living situation.

Knock. Knock.

With less anticipation, I rose from the couch and headed to the door. I half expected for Chrissy to be there again. Perhaps she would have something even stranger to say. But instead, I was greeted by a quaint, elegant redhead with a reserved sort of smirk on her face. She looked at me with a magnificent joyfulness, and, upon seeing the newspaper in her hand, I soon absorbed her positive energy.

"Good afternoon," she greeted in a charming, Irish accent. "My name is Monica. I'm here to respond to your ad."

"That's great!" I exclaimed, totally failing to keep my composure. "I mean, well, yes, it is great. When do you want to move in?"

"Today, if possible," she replied simply.

"It is definitely possible. Just follow me to meet Mr. and Mrs. Roper, the landlords."

We met with the Ropers, and Monica impressed them incredibly. Soon enough, my new, endearing Irishwoman of a roommate was moved in to the apartment. She hardly had any luggage, and she seemed as simple and trouble-free as ever. Everything seemed to be going right.

"You look very relieved to see me," she chuckled within the first few minutes of her complete move-in.

"Oh, well, I am," I admitted sheepishly. "I was so worried about how I was going to afford this place. I'm just so happy that you saw my ad."

"Well, this is a lovely place," she smiled. "Right next to the beach. It's a beautiful haven. Do you have any plans tonight?"

"Yep," I answered awkwardly. "Some of the neighbors invited me to dinner. I should go over there and ask them if they could make a plate for one more."

"Oh, no, don't bother," Monica insisted with enthusiasm. "Actually, I'd much rather just sit down at home with a good book. I brought some things that I should go over tonight. No worries."

"Well, if you truly insist."

When the evening finally came, I felt it a little difficult to leave the incredibly peaceful atmosphere that Monica created in the apartment. But I headed over to apartment number 201 slowly, admiring the beauty of Southern California.

As I walked, the salty air the beach brought in reminded of the last time I was in Santa Monica. I was so young then, admiring the glitz and glamour of the Los Angeles County. There was no talent inside of me to take over the entertainment industry, but I frequently made stops to Rodeo Drive after a long day at UCLA.

I eventually left Santa Monica because of a heartbreak. That meant losing my education as well. And instead of becoming a successful marine biologist, I ended up as a secretary in Virginia. It took a while for me to realize how much I missed the beach, but I just had to come back to California.

"Brooke! You're right on time!"

I was greeted by Chrissy, who was still as perky as earlier on in the afternoon. She swiftly invited me in, and I saw the beautifully set table in the living room. It looked as if its dressing had been supervised by a professional chef.

"You're going to love it," Chrissy insisted. "Jack is such a wonderful chef."

"Oh, he's a chef?" I asked curiously with a bit of fear. "A chef named Jack?"

"Well, yes," she replied with a giggle. "Do you know a chef named Jack?"

"Actually, yes…"

"Chrissy, should I wear something fancy tonight?"

As soon as I heard his voice, as soon as I saw his face, my heart did a million cartwheels until it plopped down into my stomach. Jack Tripper, both my California dream and my LA nightmare stood before me, staring me down with an intense awkwardness that I could hardly stand.

"Brooke?"

"Do you two know each other?" Chrissy asked after observing the obviously uncomfortable tension between Jack and I.

"Um, look, maybe I shouldn't eat here tonight," I mumbled rapidly, already making my way to the door. "It isn't smart for me to be here."

"What do you mean?" Chrissy questioned curiously. "You just got here! And Jack made some delicious beef."

"I've already experienced Jack's beef," I informed angrily, giving a menacing glare towards Jack. "And I've had enough of it."

"You haven't even taken a bite!" Chrissy called as I stepped out of the front door.

"Wait! Brooke!"

I tried to let the cold night air embrace me and take me away from my problems, but all I could see inside my mind was his face. The face of Jack Tripper.

Suddenly, I felt his hand around my wrist, and I didn't have the strength to shake him off of me. I just let him turn me to him, and I fought so hard against the tears behind my eyes.

"Brooke, I…I don't know what to say," he told desperately, his confused eyes imploring for my attention.

"You can start with goodbye," I suggested bitterly. "I'm going back to my apartment."

"Wait, you're our new neighbor?" he asked, the innocent tone of his voice forbidding me to leave. "You live here now?"

"Yes." By this time, my voice was breaking, and I felt so pressed to run away and keep him from seeing me this way again. But at the same time, I felt like he was my other half that I had lost for so long, and I just needed to be with him, broken or unbroken.

"Wow…Brooke, I mean, I'm so glad to see you."

"I seriously doubt that," I insisted heatedly, hoping my rage would keep back my tears. "And it wouldn't matter if you actually were glad to see me. I'm terribly disappointed to see you."

"Brooke, please, don't act like this."

"I'll act any way I want!" I cried, feeling a strange empowerment in my helplessness. "Gosh, Jack, do you have any idea how much you hurt me? I truly loved you with all of my heart!"

"And I loved you!"

"No you didn't!" I exclaimed, unaware of both Chrissy and a mysterious brunette now watching Jack and I from the apartment door. "If you really loved me, I wouldn't have caught you with _her…_"

"Brooke, I'm so sorry. I really am." There was a certain sort of sincerity in his sad eyes that made me want to forgive him. He looked so scared, so helpless…

"How can I believe you?" I asked crossly after retrieving my common sense, glancing over to Chrissy and the brunette. "Here you are, living with two girls in this apartment! You've always been a sleaze. I just wish I had noticed that before you went and broke my heart."

"Brooke, wait!"

Running back to my own apartment, I brushed away the pouring tears on my face. Jack's face was still fresh in my mind, and I hardly remembered that I now had a roommate.

"Goodness, Brooke, are you okay?"

"Oh, Monica, he was there!" I cried, dropping down onto the couch like a limp manikin. "Jack was there! I can't believe how much I've missed him!"

"Shh, now, child," she whispered, pulling me into her arms. "Things will work out. Just believe."

"I believed that he loved me," I sniffled shakily. "But he lied. It was all a lie."


	3. Chapter 3: Chrissy? Our Chrissy?

**Chapter 3**

I awoke the next morning on the couch with a few cozy blankets over me and a plump pillow beneath my head. The warm spring air of California had seeped into the living room, but I couldn't help but keep myself wrapped up in those blankets.

"Good morning," Monica greeted, coming in the front door. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," I lied coyly. "How's the weather?"

"It's lovely," she grinned, giving one last adoring look outside before she shut the door. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Um, sure," I answered quietly, observing her long, warm apparel.

I felt entirely lazy just sitting on the couch as the smell of coffee started to fill the air, but my body felt so weak from crying all night. Not even budgets and bills could make me get up from that couch.

"Here you go," Monica called after a few minutes, coming in from the kitchen with two cups of coffee.

"Thank you very much," I smiled, taking the coffee gratefully. "I'm sorry about last night. I was just so upset."

"Oh, it was no problem at all," Monica insisted contentedly. "If you'll let me, I'll be there for you any time you need me."

"Well, wow, thanks. Oh, and thank you so much for the blankets and the pillow."

"No trouble," she continued casually. "It was just difficult to see you in so much pain."

"Men can do that to you," I sighed mournfully.

"Will you tell me what happened?" she asked carefully. "I mean, is it too hard to explain?"

"Oh, well, I guess not," I replied cautiously. "Sometimes it can hurt a bit. It can hurt a lot. But now that he's right in the next apartment, I think I need to talk about it."

Monica just stared at me attentively and constantly inhaled her coffee's scent. It was a bit strange, but her concerned eyes compelled me to tell her my whole story.

"I met Jack Tripper four years ago at a little pub called the Regal Beagle," I started. "I was too young to drink, but I was hanging out with a few of my friends from UCLA. Then I saw him. He was sitting at a booth with his friend Larry, and I couldn't help but stare at him. He was a bit older, yes, but I could hear all of his jokes from across the room, and I was just so captivated.

"Eventually, he came over to the table," I continued. "I was so ecstatic and nervous, but we just…clicked. Have you ever just clicked with someone?"

Monica's eyes widened and she glanced about the room fretfully. "Um, well, no. I'm afraid I've never."

"Oh, well, that was how it was. Anyways, we got closer and closer. We even met each other's parents, and everything seemed perfect. But one night I snuck into his apartment to surprise him. But he…he wasn't alone."

"Oh, that's terrible, Brooke," Monica sympathized. "What did he have to say?"

"He started to run after me," I informed, fighting against the terrible feeling that the memory gave me. "I just wouldn't listen to him, not matter how much he said sorry. But I made him really mad, and he admitted why he was with her. He said I had…held out on him too long. He had _needs._ I always wanted to be married before any of that. But I loved him so much. If he had told me he would have cheated on me, I probably would have given him what he wanted."

"Oh, Brooke, no," Monica suddenly started. "You should never give in to anything you know is wrong. Especially something like that."

The honesty and concern in Monica's voice made me feel a bit ashamed for telling her what I would have done. Fortunately, the warmth in her eyes canceled out the intimidation. I quietly chuckled at the way she protectively clasped onto her coffee mug, and the tension relieved on its own. Eventually, all of our coffee was gone, and Monica started to hum a little tune I remembered hearing in a church long ago.

Upon finishing her little song, Monica looked at me again, expressing a bit of unease. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'll just have to stay as far away from that apartment as possible," I suggested carelessly. "I just won't go near it."

A few days went by, and it was finally time to start my new job. Though I never liked being a secretary, I was a very sought after associate. I could have moved to anywhere I wanted and I would have easily won the best secretarial job. But my mind seemed to curse me to California, where bad fortune lurked in every alley and apartment. When I walked into the successful company's building, met my boss for the second time, and sat at my desk, I hardly expected anything different. I didn't at all expect what I was met with in the break room.

"Chrissy?"

The innocent, unsuspecting Chrissy turned away from the coffee machine and stared at me with wide eyes. She wasn't the only one flabbergasted, but it was obvious she felt a bit more awkward than I did.

"Brooke?" she replied, failing to look any less surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I just started working here," I informed. "You work here?"

"Yes," she answered, her shock quickly turning to unease. She stared at me for a few seconds more, and then ineptly turned back to the coffee counter to get a lid for her cup.

I walked up next to her, trying to act as normal as possible. But as I started pouring my coffee, I felt so angry at her for being one of Jack's new girlfriends. As sweet as she was, she didn't need to play around with scum like Jack. And I was angry at myself for disliking her so much, knowing that she probably was a victim in this whole ordeal.

"Um, Brooke, I think there's something you should know," she suddenly told, her eyes rising and falling from me to her coffee cup. "Jack and I are just roommates."

"What do you mean?" I asked, still a bit caught up in my rage.

"Well, when you talked to Jack on Friday night, you called him a sleaze," she started defensively. "And I think it was because of Janet and I."

"Janet? Who's Janet?"

"My roommate!" she exclaimed as if I hadn't been paying attention for the past two minutes. "We saw you and Jack arguing last night. You thought Jack was seeing the both of us."

"Well, isn't he?" I questioned, confused by her words.

"No," she answered. "We're all just roommates."

"So, you're not dating? Nothing more?" I asked, feeling relief as it started to flood inside of my brain.

"Nope," Chrissy smiled. Her smile faded away suddenly. "But Jack does go out on a lot of dates. He usually has a new one every night."

"Oh, great," I sighed, looking down at my coffee irately.

"What is it, Brooke?"

"This is even worse," I told desperately. "I thought he was in a steady relationship. Or rather two relationships. But now I know he's only doing what he's good at."

"Cooking?" Chrissy suggested naively.

"Um…something like that."

"Hey, Chrissy."

A dashing young man wearing a stylish suit entered the break room with elegance and confidence. He gave a handsome grin towards Chrissy, and her whole face lit up.

"Eric," she called adoringly, throwing her arms around him. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd surprise you," he smiled smoothly. "What are you doing tonight, baby girl?"

"Nothing," she answered blissfully. "I have to work till six, though."

"Well, I have an idea," he told enticingly. "We should have a scrumptious dinner at the Yacht Club. And then we can head over to the hotel you love near the beach."

"Oh, the hotel near the beach?" she beamed. "That hotel looks so beautiful! But, Eric, what would we do at the hotel?"

He looked at her with a baffled expression, glanced over at me, and then pulled her over to the other side of the room. I could see his lips moving terribly fast as he explained to her what his intentions were, and I saw her eyes opening ever so widely. She looked at me as if I had been offended by his words I couldn't even hear, and then back at him.

"Eric, I told you, I don't believe in doing that right now." Her enthusiastic voice wasn't hard to hear, and Eric's fallen expression wasn't hard to understand. They stood in an awkward tension filled with discontented grumbles from Eric.

"Hi, Chrissy," a high-pitched voice greeted as a short, blond woman entered the break room. Chrissy replied with a quiet "hi" and looked right back at the floor with a frustrated and confused look on her face.

But Eric looked right over at the passing blond and gave an attractive grin. "Hey, baby."

The confused blond, looked over at Eric awkwardly and gave a small wave. Chrissy looked shocked as she stared back to Eric. Her eyes studied his enamored expression, and her hands balled up into fists.

"Eric, how could you do that?" she argued heatedly. "You just made a pass at that girl."

"Sorry, baby girl," he grinned. "She's pretty hot."

"Eric!"

"Look, Chrissy, I've got to go."

"Well, okay," she sighed, watching carefully as he walked away. "Eric! Call me later?"

"If I'm not too busy," he muttered hastily.

After Eric left, Chrissy stood there solemnly, observing the carpet as if she were having an intense, meaningful conversation with it. Her pupils paced back and forth in her eyes. Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, I walked over to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Chrissy, are you alright?"

Her big blue eyes glanced up at me, caught me into her frustration, and told me the extent of her troubles. "I don't know."

"That was your boyfriend, right?" I asked, taking a soft, child-friendly tone. "Chrissy, did he…pressure you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she questioned defensively, her eyes still very distracted.

"Chrissy, I think I know what he wanted to do at that hotel," I whispered gently. "And trust me, Chrissy, it's not worth it. It's not worth it at all."

"If I don't do it, he'll leave me," she cried desperately. "I just don't know what to do."

"Chrissy, stick to what you believe in."

She seemed completely unaware of what I was saying, but I had to get back to work. I intended on getting back to this distraught Chrissy as soon as I could. But, after work, she was nowhere to be found, and I was too afraid to inquire for her at her apartment. If I saw Jack again, I wasn't exactly sure about what would happen.

"Welcome home," Monica greeted as I entered our apartment. She was casually sitting on the couch, holding a delicious-smelling cup of coffee. "How was your first day at work?"

"It was pretty easy," I smiled. "You'll never guess this. Chrissy, our neighbor in apartment 201, works there too."

"Chrissy Snow?" she replied with a grin. "Hmm, how is Chrissy these days?"

"Well, I mean, she's fine," I told, curiously observing Monica's interest. "Why?"

"Oh, well, I mean, I've never actually seen Chrissy," she informed bashfully. "What does she look like? What color eyes does she have? Does she have a beauty mark? Or maybe a baby bump?"

"A baby bump?" I questioned inquisitively, taking a seat beside Monica on the couch. "Not exactly. But that could change tonight."

"What?" Monica looked thoroughly confused.

"We were in the break room," I started. "And then her boyfriend Eric came in, and he insisted that they have dinner somewhere and then go to a hotel."

"A hotel?" Monica asked. "What would they do at a hotel?"

"Um…"

"Oh," she exclaimed, looking incredibly concerned.

"Monica, Chrissy isn't one to just sleep around," I continued. "She definitely doesn't want to sleep with him, but she's afraid that if she doesn't give in, he'll leave her."

"Oh, poor Chrissy," Monica sighed, her Irish accent adding an even more compassionate tone to her voice. "Goodness, this isn't right."

"I know," I mumbled, looking at the couch sadly.

"No, this isn't right," Monica repeated, sounding even more worried as she put her mug on the coffee table. I glanced up at her and saw her eyes look over to the door of her bedroom. She looked as if she was staring right at someone, but I saw no one when I looked at her line of sight. Suddenly, she leaped up from the couch and ran into her bedroom.

"Tess, we need to stop this," I heard her saying from the bedroom. "It wouldn't be right for this to happen."

There was a moment of silence where I was able to contemplate Monica's sanity. She was talking to herself? No, she was talking to a nonexistent friend. Worse. But I felt obligated to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"It needs to happen?" Monica continued. "But Tess, I thought we were here to prevent mistakes."

Again, there was a silence. It was as if this Tess character actually needed time to respond to Monica. Giving this new roommate of mine the benefit of the doubt seemed even harder.

"Monica, you should know by now that not all of our assignments involve keeping people from making mistakes," Tess told Monica as she sat on the hard bed of the apartment's bedroom. "We often are assigned after an initial mistake."

"But, Tess, this could make everything really terrible," Monica sighed, looking at Tess with eyes full of anxiety. "Lives will be-"

"Turned upside down, I know," Tess replied. "Monica, baby, this child will make everything so much better for everyone in Chrissy's life, especially Chrissy."

"Then what is my job here?" Monica asked interestedly.

"You're job is to prepare everyone here to receive this bundle of joy," Tess smiled. "It may be harder than you think. I know you love babies. But to these young, lively people, a baby will only bring on stresses they don't need."

"Why do people think that way?" Monica sighed miserably.

"Don't question it, baby, just fight it," Tess grinned. "Now, maybe we want to finish this conversation before your roommate out there commits you to an asylum."

"Oh, no!"

After this strange exclamation, Monica peeked her head out of her bedroom, gave me a worried look, and then retreated back into her bedroom.

"Yes, Mom," I heard her say. "This really is a lovely place. Maybe you should visit soon. Yep. Alright. Talk to you later. I love you. Bye."

She reentered the living room with a big smile on her face. Without saying a word, she sat on the couch, reclined peacefully, and looked up at the ceiling.

"Um…who were you talking to in there?" I finally asked.

"Oh, just my mother," she responded innocently.

"Do you usually call your mother by her first name?" I questioned, still quite intrigued by my roommate.

"Oh, well, first I was talking to my sister," Monica explained quickly. "And then she handed the phone to my mother."

"Was that when you screamed in terror?"

"Yes," she answered after a few awkward seconds. "You see, we don't get along all of the time."

"Hmm, I see," I sighed, looking back at her room's door with much interest. "Last time I checked, we didn't have a phone in that room."

"I had it installed just today," Monica smiled, taking her mug from the coffee table. "Coffee?"

"How about an Irish coffee?" I suggested humorously, giving a small grin.

"Hmm, an Irish coffee," Monica sighed imaginatively. "That sounds yummy."

"Well, you could say that," I chuckled. "Anyways, I'm a little concerned about Chrissy. Do you have any advice."

"Hmm, well, I don't know," she started anxiously. "Wouldn't it be better to just allow her to make her own decisions?"

"Not if they will hurt her," I sighed.

Knock, knock.

Less eager to have a guest, I rose from the couch and headed to the door. When I opened it, I immediately recognized the familiar brunette standing before me.

"Hello," she greeted quietly, holding out her hand. "My name is Janet Wood."

"Hi, Janet," I replied cautiously as I shook her hand. "My name is Brooke Castle."

"I know," she smiled. "I mean, it's nice to meet you."

"And this is my roommate Monica," I introduced as Monica rose from the couch and met with us at the door.

"It's lovely to meet you, Janet," Monica grinned.

"Same here," Janet responded pleasantly. "Um, Brooke, could I invite you to my apartment. I'd like to talk to you for a second."

"Of course."

The two of us left Monica with a polite goodbye, and headed to Janet's apartment. She quickly beckoned me in and offered me any kind of drink I desired. I agreed to have a small cup of coffee, and then we sat on the couch and endured an uncomfortable silence.

"Um, so, what did you want to talk to be about?" I asked, hoping to break the silence for good.

"Oh, well, see Brooke, I was a little concerned," she sighed, giving me a careful stare. "When you were arguing with Jack the other night, you insinuated that he was having some sort of affair with both Chrissy and I. That's simply not true, you see. The three of us are just roommates."

"I know," I told gladly. "Chrissy explained everything to me today."

"Oh?" Janet looked confused and relieved. "Well, that's great. But when did you see Chrissy today?"

"I now work at the same company as Chrissy," I smiled. "It was a huge surprise to see her there."

"That's a strange coincidence," Janet laughed clumsily. "Hmm, speaking of Chrissy, you wouldn't happen to know where she is, would you?"

"Didn't she come home after work?" I asked concernedly.

"No, she didn't," Janet informed nervously. "Did she say anything to you?"

"Well, Janet, don't freak out now," I pleaded fretfully. "I have a terrible feeling Chrissy is going to spend the night with her boyfriend tonight."

"With Eric?" Janet asked with a shocked expression. "You mean, _spend_ the night? Like…_spend _it?"

"Yes," I answered regretfully. "Today, in the break room, Eric visited her and made it look like he would leave her if she didn't sleep with him."

"Oh, goodness, not Chrissy!" Janet exclaimed ardently. "Not pure, innocent, little Chrissy!"

Suddenly, the door opened, and Jack entered the apartment, wheeling in a bicycle, and holding a backpack. He looked at the floor, carefully steering the bike into the living room.

"Janet, you'll never believe who Larry set me up with this time," he chuckled as he put the kickstand up. But as he looked up to exchange amusing words with Janet, his eyes caught me, and I was as still as stone.

"Um, Jack, we have company," Janet told, her words more than a bit late.

"Oh, Brooke," Jack uttered, staring at me with puzzled eyes.

"Jack, there's an emergency," Janet informed apprehensively. "Chrissy may be spending the night with Eric tonight.

"Spending the night?" he asked anxiously. "You mean _spending_ the night? As in-"

"Jack, she's going to sleep with him!" Janet shouted angrily. "We need to do something!"

"Janet, Chrissy would never do something like that," Jack claimed fiercely. "Not pure, innocent, little Chrissy."

"That's what I already said," Janet sighed. "But, Jack, she talked to Eric about it today at work, and she hasn't been home. Jack, she got off of work an hour ago!"

"Oh, goodness, we have to do something!" Jack cried suddenly.

"Yes!" Janet agreed passionately. "Brooke, did she say where they were going?"

"They talked about a hotel near the beach that Chrissy liked," I notified, gaining confidence as urgency overcame the stupor that Jack put me in.

"There are just about a million hotels near the beach!" Jack exclaimed frantically. "Did she say anything else, Brooke?"

"I have no idea, Jack!" I shouted heatedly, rising from the couch in annoyance.

"Now, I know you two have your past," Janet started gently. "But this is no time to argue. We have to worry about Chrissy! Jack, c'mon, let's just go to every hotel on the beach. Brooke, will you stay here just in case Chrissy comes back?"

"Sure," I promised, feeling ashamed of my behavior.

"C'mon, Jack."

Jack and Janet quickly left the apartment, and I sat back down on the couch, starting to anticipate the worst of this situation. Chrissy had seemed so desperate this afternoon, and I had seen that sort of desperation. I had seen it in myself. Fortunately, I had never actually given in to what Jack wanted, but the consequences seemed clear. This Eric character was one to use, abuse, and then disappear.

I sat there for a while until all of my coffee had depleted. To have had some company sounded wonderful, but Jack and Janet didn't know Monica, and they probably didn't want a complete stranger in their apartment.

Suddenly, after half an hour of waiting, the front door opened, and I leaped off of the couch. Chrissy was standing before me with a weary, upset, and miserable expression upon her stunning face. She didn't even look surprised to see me. She just clung to her purse and jacket securely and headed toward her room.

"Chrissy, are you okay?" I asked earnestly as she trudged through the apartment.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, stopping in her tracks to give me one last remorseful stare.

She looked so helpless and regretful, but I couldn't bring myself to speak anymore. Her body carried her sorrowful atmosphere all the way to her room, and she shut the door quickly.

As some sort of automatic reaction, I bolted to her door and listened carefully, hoping she would talk to herself or think aloud. I wished for some sort of knowledge of what happened at that hotel tonight. But as a steady, dismal sobbing started behind the door, it all became quite clear.

"Chrissy," I called quietly, feeling as if I was in a terrible nightmare. "Chrissy, if you want to talk…"

"I'm fine!" she cried loudly with a broken voice.

"Well, if that's the case." I looked around at the apartment awkwardly and thought extremely hard. It would be careless to leave her, but it would be useless to stay. "Chrissy, I'm going to stay here until Jack and Janet come back, alright? They should be here soon."

After a few more minutes, Jack and Janet arrived, still in a frenzy. I notified them of Chrissy, cringed at their worried looks, and then left that apartment as soon as I could. When I arrived home, Monica looked at me as if she knew about everything that had just happened. But I was too tired and anxious to fret about her strange understanding. I silently climbed into my bed, shivered from the chilling air that swirled about the whole apartment, and then finally drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Case of the Missing Blond

**Chapter 4**

When I awoke the next morning, Monica was gone, but there was a strong smell of coffee in the air. A note lay on the kitchen counter saying she was at the beach again, and a small smiley face was right beneath her smart handwriting. I could just picture her giving a soft Irish grin, and perhaps giving me brilliant advice. But I just couldn't get Chrissy out of my mind, nor Jack. They were just there, sunken into me like every other problem I had ever faced in my life.

After a nice cup of coffee, a short shower, and a piece of toast, I headed to work, where I desperately hoped Chrissy would show up. If she went to work, there was a chance that she hadn't actually slept with Eric. Maybe she just gave him a stern talking to, and he decided to leave her. She seemed like one to be heartbroken over foolish guys.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Burdock?" It had been many hours, and I finally went straight to Chrissy's boss, J. C. Burdock. The busy woman looked at me kindly and rose from her seat.

"Oh, yes. Miss Castle, is it?" she smiled, giving me a firm handshake. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's an honor to meet _you_," I insisted strongly. "I'm actually here to ask about Chrissy."

"Chrissy Snow?" she suggested curiously. "I'm afraid Chrissy asked for a special day off today. I can't imagine why. But she's been such a good secretary that there's no reason to not give her a little vacation."

"Is that a fact…" I looked around her office clumsily, wondering why I cared so much and why I was actually doing something about my thoughts. It seemed so easy to commit to, yet more difficult to understand.

"Um, Miss Castle, do you have any more business here?" J. C. asked, craning her neck a bit as if she was trying to look right into my brain.

"No, well, I mean, sure," I quickly started. "Since Chrissy is gone for today, I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you."

"How thoughtful," J. C. grinned. "You're John's assistant, right? John Michaels?"

"I am," I replied cheerily.

"I have these reports for him," J. C. said, taking a few pieces of paper from the table and handing them to me. "It would save me a bit of a trip if you could give them to him."

"Of course," I smiled. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Burdock."

"You too, Miss Castle."

The rest of the day, I decided to let Chrissy leave my mind. She was definitely hurting terribly, but she had people there for her. She had Janet. She had _Jack._

"Oh, Jack," I whispered, finding myself landing in a short gloominess before I left work. "Why are you the only guy that gets to me?"

"Coffee?"

Yet again, Monica was sitting alone at home with a terrific-smelling cup of coffee. I had to take her up on her offer, for the day had been incredibly tiring for my mind and body. Monica was quick to pour me a cup of coffee, all the while humming a jolly tune. Though her song was very jovial, I couldn't help but be lost in a shadow of thought.

"What's on your mind?" she asked slowly, handing me my coffee.

"Monica, can I ask you about love?" I questioned solemnly.

"Oh, yes," she answered vivaciously. "Love. I just love talking about it."

"Well, it's so difficult," I sighed. "You see, I'm wondering if I really do still love Jack, or if I'm just attracted to him."

"What do you mean?"

"He almost owns me," I whispered with a slight grin. "I would do anything for him. I think. At least, I thought. I suppose since I never really forgave him for what he did, I shouldn't think I love him. But now, I believe I would do anything for him if I had a second chance."

"It sounds like love to me," Monica smiled encouragingly.

"But I could just be captivated by his charm," I told regretfully. "I am so attracted to his humor, the way he smiles, and his protectiveness. And physically, I find him so alluring. I could just die for his deep, blue eyes. And I can just picture myself running up to him and kissing him with such passion-"

Suddenly, Monica started coughing violently, and she gripped her throat with her left hand. I frantically took the coffee mug from her and put it on the coffee table, spilling a huge puddle. Monica looked at me with huge, wide eyes as she coughed.

"Monica!" I exclaimed, hysterically grabbing her shoulders. "Monica, are you alright?"

"Yes, yes!" she insisted, coughing in a slower sequence. She cleared her throat a few times and then gave a weak smile. "I guess I just didn't expect you to start talking about…you know…kissing, and all…"

"I guess I got a bit poetic…"

Knock, knock.

"Who could that be?" Monica asked, looking back at the door inquisitively.

This time, she rose from the couch to answer the door, though I had half a mind to make her rest a moment. She had recovered miraculously well from almost choking to death.

"Hi, Monica."

I peered over my shoulder to see this new visitor. He was a very tall man with short blond hair and a mature grin on his face. His very chic suit intrigued me even more, and I rose from the couch to join Monica at the door.

"Adam?" she questioned loudly, looking a bit frightened by his presence.

"This is a nice place you've got here, Monica," Adam smiled. "Down here in Southern California, next to the beach."

"Adam, what are you doing here?" Monica asked with a shaky voice.

"I'm here to see you," he replied merrily.

"No, I mean, are you here for business or for pleasure?" she continued with a bit of annoyance in her voice.

"Not for business, I assure you," he told urgently. "Actually, your _mother,_" he emphasize humorously on the word, "wanted me to check up on you."

"Oh, she did, did she?"

"Yep," Adam grinned.

"Well, be sure to thank her for me," she sighed. "I guess I'll see you later, Adam."

"Who is this?" Adam questioned, observing me with friendly eyes.

"Oh, how rude of me," Monica smiled, her tone lightening. "Adam, this is my new roommate Brooke."

"It's nice to meet you," he said cheerfully, giving me a firm handshake. "I'm a friend of Monica's."

"Yes, we work together," Monica added with a bit of comedy in her voice. "Well, Adam, don't you have things to attend to?"

"Yep, actually, there's an old man down the street that's just about to kick the-"

Before Adam could finish his sentence, Monica shut the door right in his face. She wearily leaned against it and gave a small sigh before she grinned at me. "Well, that was pleasant, wasn't it?"

"You got rid of him real fast," I laughed nervously. "An old boyfriend?"

"Oh, no, never," Monica insisted intensely. "It's strictly forbidden."

"Ah, yes, fraternization…"

"It's Sunday tomorrow," Monica said casually. "Do you have any plans?"

"Not at all," I sighed miserably. "What about you?"

"I think I'll go to church," she replied enthusiastically.

"Church, huh? Sounds great…"


	5. Chapter 5: Irish Coffee and Pickles

**Chapter 5**

The weeks went by slowly and peacefully. I finally started to enjoy where I was instead of worrying about where I was going or how my past would affect me. Though Jack continuously crossed my mind, the delight that life provided seemed to shadow his presence in the apartment a few doors over.

After work one Saturday, I hurried back home to read a long, intriguing book. It had nothing to do with romance or poetry. It was filled with simple, clear facts that wouldn't hurt even a heartbroken fly. Even though the material of the book was slightly lackluster, it was easy to fall deeply into the words. They protected me in a way. They protected me from my thoughts.

The telephone rang just as I finished an especially boring chapter, and I quickly sprang up to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Halloo, Brooke!" I was greeted by an Irish voice that was quite saturated by the intoxication of some alcoholic beverage.

"Monica?" I questioned anxiously. "Monica, are you drunk?"

"I don't suppose so," she replied with slurred words. "I just came down to the Regal Beagle and greeted the person behind the counter. He suggested I have an Irish coffee. And I love coffee. So, I just said, 'What the hay!'"

"Oh, Monica, an Irish coffee has whisky in it!" I urged quickly. "It's an alcoholic beverage! You sound completely smashed."

"It's not really coffee?" Monica asked. "It tasted alright to me."

"You say you're at the Regal Beagle?" I stuttered worriedly, grabbing my purse from the table. "Listen, Monica, don't go anywhere. I'll be there right away."

I scurried out of the apartment and downstairs, impatiently rushing towards the Regal Beagle. The little pub couldn't seem close enough, and I imagined just what could happen to Monica. Who knew what kind of crazy creeps would take advantage of a drunken Irish woman?

Finally, I stepped into the Regal Beagle, immediately searching for my auburn roommate. The bartender, Mike, gave me an interested look. I knew that he had recognized me, but I was hardly interested in meeting up with him again, or reliving the annoying infatuation he had with me.

"Monica!" I called hastily.

"Over here!"

It wasn't Monica's voice, but I was willing to take a chance on anything to find Monica. I followed the high-pitched voice, slowly recalling that I had heard it before. And, in the back of the restaurant, at a small, cozy booth, I saw Monica leaning on the shoulder of Chrissy Snow.

"And then I carried the boy away from the murderer," Monica told with a bit of a sob in her voice. "And after that, I asked God why in this world he could love someone like that. But I was foolish! God loves everyone, no matter what they've done! Oh, God is amazing!"

"Monica, it's okay," Chrissy insisted gently, pushing Monica's hair from her eyes. "You shouldn't cry like this."

"Chrissy, thank goodness you're here," I sighed, taking a seat at the booth next to Monica. "Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

"Not really," she replied frankly. "I was coming in to meet up with Janet when I saw Monica. She looked so out of it. But she said that you were coming. I didn't know that she was your roommate."

"Oh, well, Chrissy, meet Monica, my roommate," I smiled nervously, taking Monica's hand softly.

"It's lovely to meet you, Monica," Chrissy grinned, shaking Monica's free hand slowly.

"Under these conditions, I don't see how anything could be lovely," Monica sniffled.

"Chrissy, will you help me get her over to the apartment?" I asked desperately.

"Of course."

We stumbled out of the Regal Beagle, and gradually headed towards the apartment. Monica kept spewing stories about saving people in a process known as search and rescue. She mentioned angels and God, and she wouldn't shut up for a moment. But she sounded so fragile and intoxicated that I just wanted to keep hearing her voice in order to know she was still lucid.

"Here, Monica, lie down here," I ordered once we had arrived at the apartment. Chrissy helped me lead Monica to her bed. And, soon enough, the girl was fast asleep on her bed, making not a movement or sound.

"Thank you so much, Chrissy," I sighed, leading her back out to the living room. "I'm afraid of what would have happened to Monica if you weren't there."

"That was all very strange," Chrissy whispered. "Everything that she said."

"People say the strangest things when they're drunk," I chuckled uneasily, remembering just how odd Monica had been acting since she moved in with me. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Oh, well, maybe some water," Chrissy suggested quietly.

"What about some coffee? Or maybe some wine? I could definitely use some wine."

"I'm not sure if that would be a good idea," she replied awkwardly.

"Oh, well, I'll get you some water, then," I said curiously.

As Chrissy seated herself on the couch, I scurried to the kitchen, poured two glasses of ice water, and returned back to the living room. Chrissy gave a warm smile as she accepted her water, and then look down at the floor sadly. I couldn't help but stare at her inquisitively as I sat next to her.

"Chrissy, what's wrong?" I asked, attempting to catch her falling eyes just once.

"You know, I want to thank you for the other day," Chrissy grinned innocently. "You tried to warn me. But I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid, Chrissy," I swiftly insisted, giving a small smile. "Not at all!"

"Yes I am," she argued, a slight tear in her eye. "I made a terrible mistake."

"Chrissy, please, tell me what's the matter," I advocated, taking her hand tenderly.

Tears started to fall from her eyes, and she looked up at me with a delicate expression on her face. "Brooke, I'm pregnant."

The words hit me with an unexpected power. I had known this girl for less than a month, yet I had just as much compassion for her as I would a family friend. Without another thought, I pulled Chrissy into my arms and let her cry. I just let her cry there as I tried to work out a solution in my head. But as I saw Chrissy as the fragile human being she was, all I could imagine was the pain and the difficulties she would have to face.

"I can't take care of a baby," she cried angrily. "And I know that Eric would never want to help me! He broke up with me as soon as we slept together!"

"Chrissy, all of us will help you care for this baby, no matter what it takes," I told. "Do Jack and Janet know?"

"Not yet," she sniffled intensely. "They wouldn't let me live with them anymore, Brooke! And I can't afford an apartment all by myself! I want to keep this baby. I need to."

"Of course, Chrissy," I whispered, feeling the stress building up inside of me. But I held her steady as I started to pray. It had been so long since I had talked to God. But I knew that if there was ever a time to pray to God, it was at a moment like this.


	6. Chapter 6: The Hangover

**Chapter 6**

Knock, knock, knock, knock!

I suddenly awoke from my bed to a terrifying pounding on my door. It took a moment for me to adjust to consciousness, but I still took my time heading to the front door. Only crazy, rude people would knock on someone's door so frantically at seven 'o' clock in the morning on a Sunday.

As I walked to the door, I saw Chrissy, who was peacefully sleeping on the couch. She had fallen asleep last night as she cried her eyes out over her newfound adversities. She must have been more tired than I thought to have withstood this morning racket.

I opened the door slowly, though my thoughtful silence didn't keep the room peaceful. Jack and Janet were suddenly stumbling into my apartment with worried, demented looks on their faces.

"Brooke!" Jack exclaimed. "Do you have any idea where Chrissy is?"

"She was supposed to meet me at the Regal Beagle last night, but never showed," Janet cried anxiously.

"Quiet!" I commanded in a whisper, covering both of their mouths with my hands. I let my eyes lead them to the couch, and they saw Chrissy sleeping there. They gave me confused looks, but I just sighed awkwardly.

"Look, just let her rest for now," I said quietly. "She has something important to tell you. But you have to wait. You just have to give her some time."

"What is it about?" Jack asked with concern.

"I'll have her meet with you later, alright?" I suggested swiftly. "Don't worry. Just go home and relax."

They stared at me with silent angst, but started towards the front door again. With just a few last glances towards Chrissy, they gave me a nod and then wandered aimlessly out of the apartment. They looked so hopeless and apprehensive that I couldn't help but feel sorry for them.

"Halloo?"

Monica staggered out of her room and looked at me with squinted eyes. She leaned against the wall and tried to shade the incoming sunlight with her hands.

"Good morning," I smiled, feeling a very inappropriate and mischievous laugh in the back of my throat.

"There seems to be nothing good about this morning," Monica sighed cynically, closing her eyes bitterly. "Brooke, what is this feeling? This terrible curse!"

"It's called a hangover," I grinned, taking her hand. "Follow me to the kitchen. I'll give you a cold cloth to put on your forehead."

"It's like nothing I've ever experienced before," she said enthusiastically as I led her into the kitchen. "Have you ever had a hangover before?"

"Unfortunately, yes," I told humorously. "But those were my college days… The college days that ended too fast."

"Can I get some water, too?" Monica requested shakily, holding her head with her hands as if it was about to fall apart.

"Good morning," Chrissy greeted, entering the kitchen casually. She gave a confused stare to Monica and I, and then blushed. "Oh, goodness, this isn't my apartment."

"I suppose not," I laughed quietly. "You fell asleep here last night, Chrissy. It's okay. Sit down. I'll make some breakfast."

"I guess that would explain why I was sleeping on the couch," Chrissy said curiously as she took a seat at the kitchen table. "Our apartments are so similar, you know?"

"Maybe I should just lie down," Monica moaned loudly. "It's too horrible."

"Just sit down," I insisted, pulling out a chair for Monica. She gave me a reluctant look, but then sat down obediently, still holding her temples fervently. "I'll go ahead and make a lovely breakfast. Chrissy, Monica, how do you prefer your eggs?"

I started to cook a wonderful Sunday breakfast as Monica continued to whimper every few minutes. She sounded like she was in so much pain. And knowing her intoxication wasn't her own fault made me feel awfully sorry for her. I put a special amount of care into her meal, and then placed the two plates in front of Chrissy and Monica.

"Monica, can you tell me just how many Irish coffees you had last night?" I questioned curiously. "You're in a _lot_ of pain, aren't you?"

"I think I only had two," Monica sighed stiffly. "But those glasses were very big. It didn't smell like coffee. I should have known the difference."

"It's not your fault, Monica," Chrissy insisted earnestly. "I bet that dirty bartender Jim had something to do with it."

"I guess you're not going to church today," I smiled apologetically. Monica just moaned pitifully and rested her head on the table.

Knock, knock.

"So many early visitors," I chuckled darkly, feeling a bit weary of company.

"Have you had other visitors this morning?" Chrissy asked.

"Well, yes, actually," I informed awkwardly. "Jack and Janet came up about a half an hour ago. They want to see you, Chrissy. I think it's important that they become involved in this situation."

She blinked her eyes jadedly and frowned. "You're right. But, Brooke, can I stay here just a little while longer?"

"As long as you want," I grinned.

Reluctantly, I left the kitchen to attend our new, unknown visitor. Something inside of me expected for it to be Jack or Janet again. Something else made me want it to be Jack. But I was extremely surprised to open the door and see a friendly-looking old woman that gave me wonderful, bright smile.

"Hello, my name is Tess," she announced happily. "I'm Monica's mother."

I inquisitively observed Tess' dark complexion and wondered if this woman could really be Monica's mother, but I quickly set aside the racial guidelines that the world had set and replied with a smile.

"It's lovely to meet you," I said merrily. "Please, won't you come in?"

"Certainly," she answered kindly, stepping into the home.

"I'm afraid you may have come at an unfortunate time," I insisted gawkily. "There was a small mishap last night."

"But hasn't my daughter been taking care of herself?" Tess asked confusedly.

Suddenly, Monica and Chrissy entered the room, and my aching roommate gawked at Tess with wide eyes.

"Tess?"

"Baby girl, oh, I've missed you!" Tess told excitedly, running up to Monica and throwing her arms around her. "And haven't I told you not to call your mother by her first name?"

"Um…I suppose so," Monica grimaced. "Uh, Mom, please don't squeeze me so hard. I'm in a wee bit of pain."

"What?" Tess exclaimed, letting go of her daughter quickly and studying her body like a caring mother. "Did something happen? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Well, actually, Tess- um, Mom, I mean- I made a wee bit of a mistake," Monica told with regret in her expression. "You see, I went down to the local hangout, the Regal Beagle, I think it's called. And I happened to be offered a coffee. But it was an Irish coffee. And it turns out that they put whiskey in Irish coffee."

"Monica is having a bit of a hangover," I grinned apologetically. "But it's not her fault, I assure you."

"Monica, my poor baby!" Tess cried anxiously, throwing her arms around Monica yet again. "Here, let me take you out to breakfast. We should talk."

"But, Mom, I just had breakfast," Monica informed quickly.

"Well, you're going to have it again," Tess replied forcefully, her fretfulness fading away slightly. "Because it looks like you have some things to tell me, and I, angel girl, have some things to tell you."

With incredibly timid eyes, Monica followed Tess outside of the apartment. Though Tess seemed ultimately concerned, something was rather odd about this sudden visit at a most inconvenient time. I felt compassion for the poor girl, but, as soon as I looked over at Chrissy, Monica's troubles seemed dull in comparison to hers.

"Poor Monica," Chrissy sighed, looking at the ground sadly. "It wasn't her fault. But she should be careful. She says really weird things when she's drunk. She told me she was an angel."

"Okay, I just can't wait any longer!"

Jack and Janet abruptly ran through the open door into my apartment, their breathing heavy and their eyes full of suspense. They stared at Chrissy in anticipation, and I could sense that things were going to get very awkward very fast.

"I can't either," Jack told, giving Chrissy a curious look. "Good morning, Chrissy. I'm glad to see you're awake. Is there anything you have to tell us?"

"Um, Chrissy, earlier this morning, Jack and Janet visited this apartment," I reminded gracelessly, tapping Chrissy on the shoulder gently. "You were asleep, but I let them know that you had something to tell them."

She nodded her head silently and looked down at the floor. Without any words, Chrissy took the hands of Jack and Janet, and led them to their own apartment. I watched after them nervously, feeling a huge amount of compassion towards the poor, young mother-to-be. The seas of life seemed so uncharted, and I realized the few moments of peace I experienced, I had taken for granted.

"Miss Wings, this is a disaster!"

Monica rested her weary, aching head on her knuckles as she sat at a table with Tess at a small café. Nothing in her was strong enough to reply to Tess, and she just anxiously awaited her punishment.

"Monica, as angels, we don't usually sleep," Tess started despairingly. "But the Father put you in a peaceful slumber last night so you could be healed. And now you have this terrible headache as a result of what you did."

"Oh, it's awful, Tess," Monica complained laboriously. "It feels like someone just took a hammer to my head."

"Well, maybe this will teach you to keep from becoming _hammered_," Tess suggested heatedly.

"It wasn't my fault!" Monica insisted, a weak passion inside of her voice. "I had no idea an Irish coffee had whiskey in it. I would have never intentionally had something with alcohol in it."

"I know, angel girl," Tess sighed sympathetically. "It was all a mistake, I get it. And God knows it too."

Suddenly, Monica perked up and let a huge smile broaden across her face. She chuckled a few times and then took Tess' hands. "It's gone, Tess! My headache is gone!"

"Be sure to thank God for that," Tess grinned.

"Yes, of course," Monica smirked blissfully, giving a quick, loving look up above. "Father, thank you!"

"I guess there's a lesson in this experience somewhere," Tess suggested idly, looking up at the ceiling slowly. "Just understand that Chrissy Snow is your assignment. If you want to hang out at the Regal Beagle like an unruly teenager, have a reason for it. Understand?"

"Yes," Monica smiled innocently. "I understand."

"Good. Now get back to work."

When Wednesday arrived, Chrissy unexpectedly invited me out to have dinner with her at the Regal Beagle after work. I wasn't sure what to anticipate, but I assumed she needed either advice or some real fun. Certainly, whatever she needed, I was happy to help her with it.

"I talked with Jack and Janet," she told me over a couple glasses of water. "They were happy for me. I was surprised."

"Well, I'm happy for you too," I smiled pleasantly.

"The thing is, I don't know if I can raise this baby," she sighed fearfully. "I mean, I'm only a secretary. No offense, Brooke."

"None taken," I smirked. "Chrissy, from what I've seen, love is what a baby needs most. And I believe you have a lot of it."

"I suppose," she grinned weakly.

"And, Chrissy, I want to help as much as I can," I informed candidly. "I'm not sure why, but being a friend to you seems like the right thing to do."

"Thank you, Brooke," she chuckled softly, looking down at her stomach. "Gosh, it feels so weird to have a whole other person inside of you."

"I believe you," I laughed cheerfully. "Have you talked to Eric at all?"

"That brute?" she asked crossly. "Not at all. I don't want him in my baby's life."

"Maybe that's a good thing," I suggested uneasily. "But, I mean, financially. Won't you need him?"

Apprehension filled her eyes, but strength soon overcame it. "I don't want to need him."

"You're a tough one, Chrissy," I smiled supportively.

"And I'm sure Jack will be a good father-figure," Chrissy insisted out of the blue, causing my whole expression to deaden. She looked at me sadly. "Brooke, how did he hurt you?"

"It's a long story," I told lethargically. "Involving love, loss…and betrayal."

"He cheated on you?" she questioned loudly. "But didn't you love each other?"

"I thought so."

"Jack doesn't seem like the one to cheat on someone he loves," Chrissy sighed. "I mean, he goes out with a different girl every week, but, if he has a girlfriend, he sticks with her."

"If he gets what he wants," I whispered angrily. "Trust me, Chrissy, I have a right to be mad at him."

"If you have a right to be mad at him, shouldn't he at least have the right to apologize?" she asked curiously.

His face appeared in my mind again, and I could feel the lump welling up in my throat again. I could imagine him looking so contrite and ready for forgiveness. I could even hear his heartfelt apology. But it was all a fairy tale. Jack Tripper would never really mean a request for forgiveness.

All of a sudden, I was faced with a déjà vu. Jack entered the Regal Beagle, looking around the pub with a mischievous grin on his face. He and his friend Larry headed to the same booth that I had seen him in for the first time in. Again, I just couldn't take my eyes off of him. But when our eyes met this time, all that clicked was the tension between us. Although the friction was obviously uncomfortable, we kept staring at each other, unable to look away.

"You know, I think I'll head home," Chrissy smiled merrily, rising from her seat and taking her purse from the table. "Goodnight, Brooke."

"Goodnight, Chrissy," I replied distractedly.

Jack looked at me with his deep blue eyes, and I couldn't help but fall a little bit into them. His blank expression slowly turned to discomfort, then to confusion, then to devotion. My heart desperately wanted to give him a second chance. But all of the pain he had caused me weighed down on me like a heavy, coarse stone.

We sat there for a few minutes, just staring at each other. It felt like forever, but I hoped it wasn't. If he could catch my attention for forever again, I was doomed.

But as he rose from his table and started towards mine, I couldn't dislike him. Even as he sat across from me at my table, I couldn't help but already start to forgive him in my mind. And as he stared at me with regretful, loving eyes, I felt tears start to well up in my eyes.

"I've missed you, Brooke," he told quietly, our eyes still locked on each other.

"Me…me too," I said shakily, desperately trying to keep myself together.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered gently, leaning towards me over the table. "Gosh, Brooke, I'm so sorry."

"Please, Jack, could you tell me just one thing?" I asked quickly, nervously playing with my napkin on the table. "Jack, why did you do it? Why did you cheat one me?"

"I was so immature," he replied with frustration in his eyes. "Brooke, I didn't understand what was truly important to me. I had been a player all of my life until I met you." He lightly took my hand and looked me right in the eyes. "Now I know that I need you. And if you would forgive me, it would be more than I deserve. But I'm willing to try to be what you deserve."

Only in my wildest dreams had this ever happened, and I never wanted to let it go now that it was really happening. I slowly pulled his hand to my cheek and held it there firmly. While exhaling a long, tense breath, I looked up at him and let out a small tear. "Gosh, Jack, I've missed you so much."

With his free hand, he pushed back the bangs from my face and kissed my forehead. We both smiled brilliantly, manifesting a connection I knew we always had. This was a second chance to see if we were truly meant to be. A thousand times in my head I had thought up this moment, but now reality was as beautiful as my imagination.

"Brooke!"

Jack and I immediately turned to face Monica, who looked quite distressed standing just inside the door of the Regal Beagle. She continued through the pub towards our table and looked at us with wide, frantic eyes. "Brooke, something's happened to Chrissy."

Without one more second of waste, Jack and I leaped up from our chairs and followed Monica to our apartment. She swiftly led us inside to reveal a crying Chrissy and a worried Janet comforting her.

"Goodness, Chrissy, what happened?" I asked, quickly taking her hand.

"Brooke, Eric threatened Chrissy," Janet informed fretfully as she wrapped her arms around Chrissy.

"Threatened?" Jack exclaimed. "He did what? I'll kill him!"

"He was with five other men!" Chrissy cried desperately. "Jack, please don't go after him! He'll hurt you!"

"Wait, Chrissy, sit down, please," I suggested gently, leading her to the couch. Not letting Janet let go of her, Chrissy slowly sat down on the couch and sobbed at a slower pace.

"I should have never slept with him!" Chrissy shouted shakily. "This is a mess!"

"Chrissy, relax," I pleaded calmly, pushing her hair from out of her eyes. "I need you to tell us what happened, alright?"

The poor girl gave a few more sniffles, nodded quietly, and started with her story. "As I was walking home from the Regal Beagle, Eric found me."

"Found you?" I questioned. "And he threatened you?"

"He told me that I couldn't have this baby," she replied, her whole body starting to shiver. "Something about his career. His whole future. I told him no one would have to know about it if I kept it, but he said that people would find out, because I work for his mother."

"His mother?" Jack inquired with a bit of rage still in his eyes. "Do you mean J. C. Burdock is his mother?"

"Yes," Chrissy sobbed delicately. "Eric is her son."

"Eric Burdock," Jack whispered to himself. "I know that name! He's planning on running for Mayor of Santa Monica next month! Is this why he's blackmailing you, Chrissy?"

"It must be!" Janet cried hysterically. "That dirty, no-good, song of a gun!"

"Chrissy, how did he threaten you?" I asked, feeling the utmost compassion for the unfortunate girl.

"He said that if I don't have an…an…abortion, he'll talk J. C. into firing me!" Chrissy stuttered feverishly. "It was so scary, Brooke! He grabbed me and pushed me into the alley behind the apartments, and he tore my shirt…"

We all swiftly observed the collar of Chrissy's blouse, and, indeed, there was a dreadful tear in the cotton. There was also a missing button from the top of her shirt's collar, and that much alone was almost enough to make me hunt Eric down and put his head on a stick.

"How dare he lay hands on you!" Jack growled angrily. "We're going to find this guy and put him in his place!"

"Jack, please don't do that!" Chrissy bawled, taking his hand suddenly. "He'll hurt you, I just know it."

"But, Chrissy-"

"Please," Chrissy repeated desperately, looking at him with helplessly earnest eyes. "I don't want any of you going near him."

Jack, Janet, Monica and I look amongst each other, observing the reluctance in our attitudes. I knew it would take a better person to do what Chrissy wanted us to do, but I hardly felt like being the better person in this situation. I felt like finding Eric and causing him a great deal of pain. But Chrissy's innocent eyes finally got to me, and I nodded wearily.

"Okay, Chrissy," I whispered with a reassuring grin. "I'll do whatever you say."

"Me too," Janet sighed, tenderly pulling Chrissy into a protective hug.

"…Me as well," Jack said with frustration after a few seconds of silence. "But within reason, Chrissy. Within reason."

"Chrissy, we'll stay away from Eric, but we'll protect you here forever," Monica smiled soothingly. "You'll let us do at least that, right?"

"Fine," Chrissy mumbled, closing her eyes slowly.

"Come on, Chrissy," Janet murmured gently, pulling Chrissy up from the couch. "I'd better get you to bed."

"I'll help you, Janet," Jack insisted with a sigh. He looked at me as Janet started to walk Chrissy out of the apartment. His passionate stare worried me until he gave me an affectionate kiss on the cheek. And then he left.

Monica looked at me inquiringly, but her eyes quickly turned to the door of the apartment that Jack, Janet, and Chrissy just walked out of. Such compassion and concern was in her eyes, and I could understand that she sensed a greater danger in this situation. We glanced at each other nervously, and then continued to stare at the door as if it held some answers to this dilemma, some answers to this crisis.


	7. Chapter 7: The Redemption

**Chapter 7**

"Tess, is this what I'm here for?"

I awoke to hear Monica's voice loud and clear in the next room. Lazily, I sat up in my bed and listened carefully.

"I'm sorry, but I'm so new to this," she continued miserably. "This seems like such a sad situation. I just don't see how I could help. But I'll try the best I can. Thanks, Tess."

Knowing I would have no luck drifting back to sleep just lying there on the bed, I got up and put on my robe. The clock on my bedside table read 5:40, a rather early time to me, but I had too much on my mind to fall back asleep. At the same time, I had Jack to live for now, and waking up seemed a bit more pleasant.

"Good morning," I greeted lethargically as I entered the living room.

Monica started at my words, but then gave an amiable smile. "It is a wonderful morning. Why are you up so early?"

"I heard you talking to your sister on the phone," I yawned vaguely, falling down onto the couch.

"On the phone? Oh, yes, on the phone! I'm so sorry," Monica apologized bashfully. "I should have been more quiet."

"Oh, no, don't worry," I insisted quickly, observing Monica's embarrassed frown. "Are you going to the beach?"

"Well, I was going to," she replied with a small grin. "But perhaps it would be more interesting to hear how you and Jack became so close last night."

I was sure that my cheeks blushed red as she sat on the couch beside me. Jack's face appeared in my mind again, and I couldn't help but smile dreamily.

"I suppose you deserve to know what's going on," I laughed innocently. "Last night, after work, I met up with Chrissy for dinner at the Regal Beagle. We talked about the baby, and then Jack showed up. That's when she left…"

Suddenly, I could hear Chrissy's inconsolable sobs inside my mind, and I felt so guilty. Monica stared at me with sympathetic eyes and took my hand.

"I could have stopped her," I sighed. "We could have walked home together. Then I could have protected her."

"You shouldn't feel any guilt, Brooke," Monica insisted ardently. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen. And what matters now is we can protect Chrissy. We know about Eric's rage, and we can face it."

I gave her a thankful smile and exhaled shakily. Her reassuring eyes gave me hope, but most of all, they inspired me. I rose up from the couch and headed towards the bathroom.

"You know, Chrissy has to get to work an hour before I do," I informed swiftly. "So she takes a different bus than I do. But maybe I should go with her to work. Keep an eye on her. I'm going to take a shower and get ready."

"Sounds good," Monica agreed happily.

An hour later, I raced over to Chrissy's apartment and knocked on the door. Janet answered the door, looking awfully sleepy. But when I told her my idea, she enthusiastically beckoned me into the apartment to wait for Chrissy to finish up in the bathroom.

"She's just finishing up her makeup," Janet told quickly. "She'll be out in a couple minutes. This is really nice of you, Brooke."

"It's the least I can do," I suggested with a grin.

"Hey, Janet, can you help me wash the dishes?" Jack came out of the kitchen with a plate and towel in his hands. He looked up at me and gave a wide smile.

"Brooke," he beamed, awkwardly putting the plate and towel on the coffee table. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Jack, Brooke is going to walk Chrissy to the bus," Janet informed thankfully. "Isn't that nice?"

"You're really going to do that?" Jack asked happily. "That's great, Brooke!"

"Chrissy! Are you almost ready?" Janet questioned, rushing into the bathroom.

Jack gently took my hand and gave me a loving peck on the lips. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," I replied quietly. "I'm just worried about Chrissy."

"I know," he sighed, looking over to the bathroom door. "I could just kill that Eric kid. I gave Chrissy a bottle of mace in her purse."

"Thoughtful," I chuckled. "I've got some too."

"Hey, I want to take you out to dinner tonight," he suddenly smirked, returning his gaze to me. "There's a wonderful Italian restaurant down the street."

"I'd love to," I insisted merrily. "But, Jack, please understand that…you did hurt me. I want to take this slow."

"Of course," he whispered, a bit of shame in his voice.

"I do love you, though," I grinned.

"I love you too."

"I'm ready," Chrissy announced, coming out of the bathroom with Janet. The both of them stopped in their tracks abruptly and stared at Jack and I with wide eyes.

"Well, you two are definitely getting along now, aren't you?" Janet smirked mischievously.

I realized Jack and I had our arms around each other, and a tiny smile crept onto my face. We released each other, and I headed over to Chrissy.

"Come on, Chrissy. I'll walk you to the bus," I informed lightheartedly.

"As long as you tell me about what I just saw," she implored playfully.

We set off for the bus stop, and Chrissy was incredibly eager to hear what happened with Jack and I last night. I was more interested in how she did after she left my apartment last night, but she continued to pester me about my whole relationship with Jack. She was happy while she talked, so I just played along clumsily.

As we came to bus stop, I saw her eyes wander the streets cautiously, and I understood her mindset. Though she was desperately concerned about Eric, she needed something to take his face out of her mind. As long as it helped her, I kept her occupied. But my eyes were just as open as hers, if not more so.

"So, how long have you, Jack, and Janet lived together?" I asked as Chrissy became more and more focused on her surroundings.

"Um, just a year now," she informed abstractedly. "I mean, Janet and I had been living together for a couple of years, and then we found Jack in our bathtub."

"What?" I exclaimed, staring at her frantically.

"The party got a bit out of hand," Chrissy chuckled, looking at me with a carefree expression.

"My gosh, Chrissy," I gulped fearfully. "Are you serious? It was _that_ kind of party?"

"Not necessarily," she told quietly. "It's not like it was a baby shower, or anything." She suddenly let out a snorting laugh that took me by surprise. "I mean, no one was supposed to be in the bathtub. But he just got a little too tipsy and passed out in the bathtub."

"Oh," I sighed in relief. "I'm glad we cleared that up."

"Cleared what up?"

"Nothing."

For the next two months, I escorted Chrissy to work, and everything seemed to lighten up. We both became less vigilant while we walked to the bus stop, and Jack and Janet became less protective about Chrissy. Chrissy's baby bump started to show, and everyone went crazy about it. Every time anyone was near Chrissy, they would take the opportunity to rub her belly and talk to the unborn child.

"Hello, baby Janet," Janet giggled as she stared at Chrissy's stomach.

"Don't you mean baby Jack?" Jack suggested playfully, tapping Janet on the shoulder.

"Jack, I'm not going to use your name!" Chrissy insisted urgently. "Don't you want to save it for yours and Brooke's baby?"

I blushed as I squeezed Jack's hand tighter. He gave a beautiful smile and kissed me on the forehead.

Chrissy, Janet, Jack, Monica and I were meeting at the Regal Beagle, just like we usually did every Saturday night. It was a tradition that started just a few weeks ago, and it really felt like a family activity.

Monica talked to Chrissy's baby bump as if it truly was a person who could understand every word she said. And Janet would just laugh and make hilarious jokes about Monica's Irish accent. Chrissy would swiftly reprimand Janet as Monica just blushed profusely and continued her adorable talk to the unborn baby. As for Jack and I, we were constantly grinning at each other, proud of the family life we were experiencing, anticipating the one we had started talking about. We had been dating again only an official two months, but it felt like we'd been together forever.

"Monica is a swell name, isn't it?" Monica whispered, curiously rubbing Chrissy's belly.

"You've been really obsessed with that baby, Monica," Jack chuckled. "Can we be expecting to rub your belly soon?"

"Oh, no," Monica smirked bashfully. "I've just never seen a pregnancy so close-up before. Experiencing the whole thing like this. It's really amazing."

"I'm afraid you haven't been experiencing the whole thing unless you've had morning sickness every day this week," Chrissy sighed irately.

"_Every day_?" Janet asked anxiously. "Goodness, Chrissy, really?"

"Well, almost," Chrissy insisted, calming down as she rubbed her belly. "But it's been pretty terrible."

"Chrissy, have you told your parents about the baby yet?" Monica questioned with enthusiasm.

The whole table went silent, and I curiously glanced towards Jack. He looked at me sympathetically, and then back at Chrissy. The mother-to-be stared at the table sorrowfully, playing with her napkin slowly.

"Um, Monica, Chrissy's father is a reverend," Janet informed quietly.

"He'll never forgive me for getting pregnant out of wedlock," Chrissy sniffled. "All of his life, he's told me to get married before I did anything with a man. Now I'm sure to go to hell."

"Oh, no, Chrissy!" Monica exclaimed passionately. "That's not true! If you've asked for forgiveness, there's no need to feel guilty anymore! This child will be a wonderful blessing. I promise you. God's forgiveness is for everyone."

"It's not God's forgiveness I'm worried about," Chrissy sighed. "It's my father's. Janet, I think I want to go home."

"Alright, Chrissy," Janet replied quietly, giving a frightful glance towards Jack. "I'll take you home. There's no need to be upset, though."

"I just hate thinking about telling my father," Chrissy sobbed, rising from the table.

"It won't be that bad," Janet insisted, following Chrissy towards the exit of the Regal Beagle. "I'm sure he'll understand."

As soon as Chrissy and Janet left the pub, Monica gave an apologetic sigh. "I messed up, didn't I?"

"Don't worry," Jack grinned weakly. "Chrissy's very sensitive when it comes to her family. She really loves them, and she doesn't want to hurt them."

"I'm just convinced her family won't condemn her," Monica told quickly.

"Her father has taken unmarried, pregnant couples under his wing before," Jack notified. "I'm not sure how he'll react to his own daughter, but I'm pretty sure Chrissy's imagination is making him seem more easily-angered than he actually is."

"Well, we'll just have to see what will happen," I suggested compassionately. "I'm sure everything will turn out alright."

"Yeah," Monica agreed with a frown. "Well, I think I'll go back to the apartment and have a cup of coffee."

"You know, Monica, they sell really great coffee here," Jack informed as Monica rose from the table.

"I don't want to take any chances with coffee from _this _place," Monica grinned, slowly skipping to the exit.

"I'll see you later," I called, giving a goodbye wave.

"How about we have some wine?" Jack suggested mysteriously, waving for the bartender.

"Sounds lovely," I smiled.

Jim the bartender came over, and Jack asked for the best wine he had. Only a minute went by before Jim had returned with the wine, and Jack immediately started to make a toast.

"To us," he said simply with an alluring look in his eyes.

"To us," I repeated as our glasses met in midair. He stared at me dreamily and put his wine glass down on the table without taking a sip. All I could do was blush.

"You are beautiful, you know?" he whispered amorously.

"You're not too bad yourself," I smirked, absent-mindedly.

"I really do love you," he insisted earnestly. "I hope you know."

"I think I do," I replied quietly as reality sent a flood of emotions through my heart. "Jack, I've loved you before. I loved you with all of my heart. But when I saw you with that girl…Jack, please promise me that we'll be together forever."

"I promise." His words were so honest and loving, and I knew they were true. I took his hand and just stared into his eyes, taking in the moment.

"Jack?"

We both turned to see Mr. Roper standing beside the table with a curious look on his face. He looked at our faces, our wine, and then our hands, and a strange bit of irritation was in his eyes.

"Mr. Roper?" Jack asked, looking at our landlord inquisitively. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Mr. Roper questioned sarcastically. "I should be asking what you're doing here having wine and holding hands with Brooke."

"What's wrong with that?" Jack inquired with a small laugh.

"Well, she's a girl," Mr. Roper told heatedly.

Jack's eyebrows raised inquiringly for a moment, and then his eyes widened. He quickly released my hand and leaped up from the table.

"Oh, Mr. Roper, it's all a huge misunderstanding," Jack mumbled peculiarly. "See, Brooke here is, um…she's…"

"What's wrong, Jack?" I asked, rising from the table slowly. Jack seemed eager to not make eye contact with me or Mr. Roper. He rapidly fidgeted with his fingers and feet, and I couldn't make out why he was acting so nervous.

"Someone has got to explain this to me," Mr. Roper demanded judiciously. "Jack? Brooke?"

"Well, Mr. Roper, we were having a little date," I informed cautiously, observing Jack's sudden hand motions. He ran his finger across his neck furiously as Mr. Roper wasn't looking.

"A date?" Mr. Roper exclaimed angrily. "A date?"

"Yes, a date," Jack swiftly replied, picking up his glass of wine. "Brooke was going to have a date with a man here tonight, but he stood her up. Well, it just happened that I was walking by, and so she asked me to sit in for her date. You know, we were having a date. It's a figure of speech, Mr. Roper."

I stared at Jack confusedly, giving him the benefit of the doubt. He couldn't be denying our relationship after promising me forever with him. I gave him the most desperate, pleading expression I could.

"I see," Mr. Roper said, looking at the both of us warily. "I've heard that you gay guys are good at doing things like that for your friends."

"Gay?"

Right after I exclaimed the word, Jack suddenly threw the wine he was holding onto my blouse. I gasped, not enjoying the abrupt, cold air I was starting to feel on my chest. My light-blue work shirt now had blotches of dark indigo on it. I stared at Jack with wild, unsuspecting eyes, and he looked as petrified as I was.

"Oh, goodness, Brooke, I'm so sorry," he exclaimed frantically. "I'd better get you home! You could get a cold in this weather if you're wet too long."

"A cold in _this_ weather?" Mr. Roper questioned lethargically. "It's the beginning of summer."

"Come on, Brooke," Jack beckoned, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Mr. Roper. He took a twenty out of his pocket and threw it at the bartender hurriedly as we left the Regal Beagle.

"Jack, why did you do that?" I asked angrily as we walked back to the apartments.

"I'm so sorry, Brooke," Jack sighed ruefully, pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders. "I just needed to get us away from Mr. Roper."

"What for?" I inquired, holding his jacket close to me and taking advantage of the body heat that still clung to it.

"Brooke, there's something that I should tell you."

I immediately stopped in my tracks and tugged at Jack's arm. He glanced at me apologetically and then looked at the ground. "Jack, was Mr. Roper telling the truth? Are you actually…gay?"

His eyes widened and he looked at me amusingly. An impish grin crept upon his face and he broke out in laughter.

"Gay?" he guffawed carelessly. "Oh, no! Brooke, I'm not gay."

"Then what was Mr. Roper talking about in there?" I questioned in frustration.

"Look, Brooke, the only way Mr. Roper let me move in with Chrissy and Janet was if he thought I was gay," Jack chuckled, taking my hand. "It's all a story."

"Thank goodness," I smiled, feeling incredibly foolish. "Too bad a wine-stained shirt had to come out of this story."

"I'm sorry about that," he sighed as we started walking to the apartments again. "But the stain will come out without a problem. Just come over to my apartment and I'll scrub it down."

I gave a playful smile. "I hope you intend to have something for me to replace it with."

"Well, I was hoping something like that wouldn't be necessary," he grinned.

My smile faded away, and I stopped walking again. He stared at me inquisitively and squeezed my hand. I pulled my hand away from him and stared at the ground. It was a surprise to me how much a simple joke of his could hurt me.

"What's wrong, Brooke?" he asked with a look of alarm.

"Jack, I'm not going to do that," I whispered, finally looking into his blue eyes again. "Don't you know that?"

"Well, I mean, I thought maybe you changed," he suggested awkwardly.

"Jack!" I exclaimed, feeling aggravation building up inside of me. "For the past two months, you haven't even talked about sex. But now…Do you really love me for me, or do you just want to use me?"

"Oh, gosh, no, Brooke," he quickly assured, taking my hand gently. "I'm sorry. It's just…I'm so used to it…I guess. Every date I've had before you came back…"

My heart started to ache as I was reminded of his many dates between my departure and my return. I could picture him with every girl in Santa Monica. Even every girl in the Los Angeles County. But, even more clearly, I could picture him with _her_.

"Goodness, Jack, do you know how much that hurts?" I cried, feeling a few tears reach the brims of my eyes. "You've been going through the entire phone book while I've only been with one other guy since I left you!"

"You…you have?" he asked softly, guilt starting to fill his eyes.

"Yes," I sniffled, angrily wiping a tear from my cheek. "It was the night I caught you with _her_. I went out to a bar, got as drunk as a could…and slept with some random guy. Some random stranger! God, I was so stupid!"

"A…random stranger?"

"Yes," I continued tearfully. "Jack, I thought that the worst moment of my life was catching you with that woman. But the worst moment of my life was the night I gave myself away to someone I didn't love, and who didn't love me. I felt just like I was cheating on you. Because I still belonged to you. Jack, I always have."

His bright blue eyes stayed with me, just observing me in the moonlight. I could see guilt, pain, and frustration in those eyes. But what I wasn't expecting were the tears that started to flow from them. They were so beautiful and devastating at the same time that I could hardly hold myself together.

"Brooke, as soon as I saw that you had returned," he started shakily. "I promised myself that I would do whatever it took to have you again. That I would sacrifice all that I had to make you happy. And, trust me, it's hard to keep that promise. It's hard to look at you and see how beautiful and stunning you are, and know that I can't have you. But the way you look at me, and the way that you love me keeps me from breaking that promise."

As his heart poured out from his eyes and his mouth, all I could do was hold him. I threw my arms around him and cried on his shoulder, knowing, finally, that everything would be alright. He held me close and wept a bit, but he was still my Jack. My strong, courageous, loving Jack. And I knew that we were truly and wonderfully in love, and that it was now the right time for us to be together.


	8. Chapter 8: Father?

**Chapter 8**

A month later I took Chrissy to work for the last time. She insisted this be the last time, saying that she was ready to travel around town by herself. Of course, I felt that this was a silly motion and Eric could be lurking behind any corner, but Chrissy was adamant, so I didn't argue with her about it for long. One thing about this change would be the amount of sleep I got. No matter how devoted I was about it, getting up over an hour earlier than I actually needed to was taking a toll on my body.

"Are you okay, Brooke?" Chrissy asked me as we walked along the corridors of our work building. She carried her purse on her shoulder delicately as she stared at me with concern.

"I've just got a little cold," I informed with a feeble grin. "I'll get over it fast."

"Sure you will," Chrissy smiled. "Because tomorrow you'll be sleeping in. You won't need to bring me to work."

"Chrissy, it really hasn't been any trouble," I insisted quickly. "I don't mind getting up early. It's probably good for me."

"Apparently not," Chrissy frowned as we passed by a few doors. "Wasn't that your boss' office?"

"Yeah," I assured. "But he wants me to get something from Mrs. Burdock's office before I go to see him"

We headed to the office cheerily, expecting a normal, uneventful day at work Unfortunately, when we entered J. C. Burdock's office, things were obviously not normal. J. C. was frantically searching around her office, opening every drawer and every file. Chrissy and I stood there in confusion as J. C. finally looked up at us.

"Chrissy," she called fervently. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?" Chrissy replied in bewilderment.

"My crystal plaque," J. C. exclaimed anxiously. "Chrissy, I had a crystal plaque from my college representing my Masters degree. It was right on my desk."

"I remember it," Chrissy said defensively. "Where did it go?"

"I was just asking you that!" J. C. sighed, fury building up in her eyes. "I can't believe this."

"I'm sure you'll find it, J. C.," Chrissy insisted optimistically.

"No, I won't find it," J. C. muttered angrily. "I won't find it until you give it to me."

"What do you mean?" Chrissy asked swiftly. "I don't have it."

"I wish that were true," J. C. assured crossly. "But my son told me today that he saw you take it just after I left the office last night."

"What?" Chrissy cried, looking awfully offended. "I would never take your plaque! And Eric wasn't even in the office yesterday!"

"Yes he was," J. C. corrected quickly. "After I left the office, we went out to dinner. But I had forgotten my purse on my desk, and he said he would get it for me. When he came back to the restaurant with my purse, he told me that he saw you coming out of my office with my plaque. I just couldn't believe him. But now I do."

"Oh, J. C.!" Chrissy exclaimed, sounding completely helpless. "You've got to believe me! I would never, ever do something like that!"

"I've got my son's word against yours," J. C. sighed. "Chrissy, you've been a fine secretary over the past year, but, truthfully, I don't know you as well as my son. And it feels more right to believe him."

"Mrs. Burdock, I assure you that Chrissy wouldn't steal anything from anyone," I told strongly.

"Be quiet, Miss Castle," J. C. commanded feverishly. "Do you want to lose your job too?"

"Lose my job _too_?" I asked uneasily as my heart dropped into my stomach.

"Yes," J. C. answered. "Miss Snow, this company does not tolerate theft. You are fired."

I quickly turned to look at Chrissy, who displayed incredible amounts of distress and fear. Her mouth and eyes were wide open, and her whole body was shaking.

"J. C., I didn't steal it!" Chrissy claimed suddenly as her hands shook wildly. "I swear!"

"Please leave my office, Miss Snow," J. C. ordered, slowly taking a seat at her desk.

Before another word could be said, Chrissy ran out of the office in a terrible fit of anxiety. I ran after her, calling her name frantically. I knew I had to help calm her down in this situation, but I felt as helpless as ever.

"Chrissy, please wait!" I called, following her into a deserted hall.

She weakly leaned against the wall and started to cry. Her dark blue eyes lightened in the layer of tears in her eyes, and I could clearly see the panic that was haunting her.

"Brooke, what am I going to do?" she asked hastily, looking at me with her broken eyes. "I could hardly make rent when I had this job. How am I going to support a baby?"

"Oh, Chrissy, please try to calm down," I begged fretfully. "I'm sure everything will work out somehow."

"Somehow is the key word!" she cried. "Maybe I should just run away and give this baby up for adoption. It would do much better off without me."

"I don't think so."

A bright light filled up the dark corridor, and Chrissy grabbed onto my arm. Her eyes were hypnotized by something behind me, and I turned around quickly. There, standing before Chrissy and I in a beautiful, cheering light, was my roommate Monica. She wore a long, flowing white gown, and an encouraging Irish grin was upon her friendly face.

"Monica?" I called nervously, clutching Chrissy's arm as if it were the only means of support I had. "Is that you?"

"Indeed it is," she smirked, observing us thoughtfully. "There is something I need to tell you, Brooke. You as well, Chrissy. I am an angel."

I looked at Monica in total perplexity, wondering if I had perhaps been drugged. But the kindness in her face and the beauty in her behavior started to convince me that she was telling the truth. I stared and stared, but I couldn't persuade myself that this was fake.

"An angel?" Chrissy asked, looking at Monica curiously. "You're a real angel?"

"Yes," Monica answered happily. "I've been sent by God to tell both of you that He loves you. And He loves your unborn baby as well, Chrissy."

"My baby?" Chrissy questioned. "He loves it?"

"Her, to be exact," Monica smiled playfully. "Yes, He loves her very much."

"It's a girl?" Chrissy rubbed her belly gently as a smile crept upon her face. A sudden glimpse of hope appeared in her eyes. "If you know what the baby is going to be, can you tell me if I'll get my job back? Or if I'll be able to afford the rent for my apartment?"

"I can't tell you specifically," Monica replied soothingly. "But I can tell you that God provides. And this baby will certainly have all of her needs, if you provide the love."

"Really?" Chrissy whispered, looking back down at her stomach. "Will I really be able to care for this baby."

"I think you can do your part," Monica smirked supportively.

I watched as Chrissy continued to grin at Monica. This was insane. Monica, my Irish, coffee-obsessed roommate was an angel. A real angel. Or was she? It seemed too good to believe in, but I wanted to believe it so bad.

"Wait, Monica, you're my roommate," I told quietly, slowly releasing my grip on Chrissy's arm. "How can you be an angel?"

"We angels are assigned to help people," Monica explained merrily. "Chrissy was my assignment, so I moved into someplace I could get close to her. But I never thought that I would be helping you as well, Brooke."

"You talked with me about Jack," I whispered, thinking over Monica's whole stay with me. "You gave the greatest advice…I can't believe it. I mean, I can. But, wow…"

"And you've both become some of my best friends," she beamed, pulling Chrissy and I into a big hug. "I'm so glad to have met you."

"Are you leaving now?" Chrissy asked fearfully.

"Not yet," Monica informed with a slight frown. "But I will have to. Soon."

"Will you be leaving before the baby is born?" Chrissy questioned.

"I believe so," Monica sighed. "But I'm sure I'll be seeing you again."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Chrissy exclaimed, giving Monica another hug.

"So…I live with an angel?" Monica laughed at my remark and then pulled Chrissy and I into another hug.

"I love you girls," Monica whispered. "Everything is going to be okay."

My boss had no problem with giving me the day off of work. Chrissy was eager to get home and tell Jack and Janet that she had been visited by an angel. But, as we walked home, Monica warned Chrissy that it might be best to keep the angel aspect of her existence a secret. Jack and Janet may not believe her. Still, Chrissy was a bundle of excitement. She nearly spilled the secret to every passing stranger on the sidewalk.

"Isn't she beautiful?" she asked one couple we passed by. "Almost angelic, if you ask me."

"You're funny, Chrissy," Monica smirked lightheartedly.

"Why can't we tell Jack and Janet?" Chrissy asked like an impatient child. "This is amazing! We should share it with everyone!"

"I believe there's a verse in God's Word that says some have entertained angels unaware," Monica grinned. "I'm an angel. They're unaware."

"I see…"

When we got back to the apartments, Chrissy insisted that Monica and I follow her up to her apartment for a little party. The enthusiastic mother-to-be was skipping about the apartment as if the party had already begun when we stepped in.

"Calm down, Chrissy," I urged. "It's probably not the best thing for you to be so hyper in your current state."

"But my current state makes me this way," Chrissy chuckled.

"Chrissy? Monica? Brooke?" Jack came out of the kitchen, carefully stirring the contents in the bowl he was carrying. "What are you guys doing back so soon?"

"I was fired!" Chrissy exclaimed with a huge smile on her face.

"What?" Jack asked immediately as he stopped stirring. "You were fired?"

"Yep," she replied happily.

"Oh, Chrissy, that's terrible," Jack insisted sympathetically, putting down his bowl and giving Chrissy a hug. "Don't worry, Chrissy. I think you'll get a new job very soon."

"No, Jack, I'm not sad about it!" Chrissy laughed. "I'm just so happy God is with me. He's going to provide. I just know it!"

"Really?" Jack questioned, looking a bit surprised. "God?"

"Of course!" Chrissy told enthusiastically. "I know that God loves me, and He loves my baby girl. Everything will be okay."

"Um…okay," Jack said with a small laugh. He walked over to me and put his mouth up to my ear. "Has Chrissy gone religious?"

"I think she may not be the only one," I grinned, letting Monica's encouraging words sink deep down into my heart. "In fact, Jack, I think we should talk a little later."

"Okay," he said casually, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Well, um…Janet! Chrissy is here!"

"What?" Janet came out of the bedroom and looked at everyone in the room inquisitively. "Chrissy, what are you doing back from work so soon?"

"I was fired!"

"What?" Janet's reaction to Chrissy's cheerful news was even more intense than Jack's, and anxiety flooded her eyes so suddenly. "You were fired?"

"Look, Janet, I'll explain everything to you later," Jack sighed, walking over to Janet and patting her on the shoulder. "It's a bit odd, but, yes, Chrissy was apparently fired. And, yes, she is quite content with that. But, she insists that God is going to provide. And I sort of believe her."

Knock, knock.

"I'll get it," Janet said distractedly as she walked to the door, staring at Chrissy all the while.

As Janet opened the door, Chrissy's eyes opened wide. Everyone looked at the new guest and observed his clergyman outfit, his tidy hairstyle, and his friendly grin.

"Hello, Janet," he greeted happily.

"Reverend Snow?" Janet questioned fretfully. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited to preach at a church nearby, and I thought I'd visit," he smiled. His eyes fell upon Chrissy, and his face lit up. "Oh, Chrissy, I've missed you!"

Chrissy stood motionless as her father stepped over to her and gave her a hug. The reverend gave a content sigh as he wrapped his arms around his daughter, but then his whole body froze. A terrified, apprehensive expression captured Chrissy's usually placid face, and Reverend Snow slowly released his daughter.

"Chrissy…you're pregnant?" he questioned softly, his eyes examining her feverishly. "Well, you must be entering your second trimester!"

"I know, Daddy," Chrissy stuttered helplessly. "I've been meaning to tell you. But I was just so scared of how you would react."

"Was it…" Reverend Snow turned around and stared at Jack furiously. In a sudden sensation of panic, Jack looked around the room frantically and grabbed my hand.

"Oh, no, Mr. Snow!" Jack exclaimed nervously. "It wasn't me! I assure you!"

"How dare you lay hands on my daughter!" Reverend Snow shouted, stalking towards Jack like a ravenous lion.

"No, Daddy, it wasn't Jack!" Chrissy screamed, grabbing her father's hand. "Daddy, please listen to me! Daddy, please…"

Reluctantly, Reverend Snow turned to face his daughter once more, and her feeble blue eyes caught him swiftly.

"Daddy, I made a mistake," Chrissy sniffled as her eyes started to shine with tears. "I was in love with a man, and I thought he loved me. But I tried to please him in any way I could…And so, now I'm having a little girl."

"Chrissy, how could this even happen?" Reverend Snow asked ardently, starting to pace back and forth in front of his daughter. "All of your life, I've taught you what is right. Why would you disobey me?"

"Excuse me, Reverend?" Monica interrupted suddenly, her innocent voice grabbing everyone's attention. "If I may, I'd like to suggest that even you, as righteous a man as you are, have made mistakes in your life. Am I correct?"

Reverend Snow looked at Monica vulnerably and took a deep breath. His regretful eyes fell upon Chrissy once more, and he took her hand.

"I'm sorry, baby," he smiled. "I'm truly sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Daddy," Chrissy cried, running into her father's arms. "I know it was wrong. But I believe that God will provide for me and my baby."

"Wow," Reverend Snow abruptly sighed. "Am I really going to be a grandfather?"

"I believe you are, Reverend," Janet smirked.

"Oh, Chrissy, I love you," Reverend Snow whispered, holding onto his daughter protectively. "I never should have yelled at you. This baby will certainly be a blessing, I'm sure of it."

"I concur," Monica announced merrily.

"Um, excuse me, but I believe we've never met," Reverend Snow said kindly to Monica. "I'm Reverend Snow, Chrissy's father."

"It's lovely to meet you," Monica grinned. "I live in the apartment a few doors over with Brooke."

"Hi, I'm Brooke," I introduced politely.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting the both of you," Reverend Snow insisted. "I'm afraid I have to go now. The church member who suggested I speak at this particular church, Tess, seemed pretty adamant that I be on time. But, Chrissy, perhaps I can come back in the evening. We can go out to dinner to celebrate."

"I'd like that," Chrissy smiled.

"Alright then," Reverend Snow replied happily, walking to the door. "Goodbye, then. And God bless."

After the reverend left, I leaned in towards Monica and whispered, "Tess? Your mom?"

"Oh, Tess," Monica laughed quietly. "She's not my mother. She's an angel too."

"I should have guessed," I chuckled sheepishly, observing the joyful look on Chrissy's face. "Chrissy, your dad took that news pretty well."

"Yes," Chrissy beamed, her exultant expression lighting up the whole room.

Jack wrapped his arms around me as everyone started to laugh cheerily. With a huge, encouraging smile on her face, Janet gave Chrissy a hug, and Chrissy eagerly pulled Monica into the hug as well. After just a few seconds, we were all in a huge group hug, and Chrissy was crying again. Only, this time, her tears were of joy, not sorrow. And I couldn't help but start to cry with her. After all, we now knew that God loved us, and He loved us enough to take care of us.


	9. Chapter 9: Mother?

**Chapter 9**

It had been a couple days since Chrissy was fired, but everything was curiously wonderful. Everyone chipped in to assure that Chrissy was secure in her finances, and Monica constantly kept her company and held Bible studies that I attended frequently. But, still, Chrissy seemed a bit down. She went to dinner with her father a while back with a huge smile on her face. But a strange melancholy came back with her.

"Chrissy, is something bothering you?" I asked one evening at the Regal Beagle, where we spent a good deal of time almost every night.

"Oh, no. Not at all." Her innocent eyes appeared almost pleading as she looked up at me. I could tell she was keeping a secret, and she definitely was desperate to share it.

"Seriously, Chrissy," I started carefully. "You've been awfully quiet ever since you went to dinner with your father. I'm sure he said something to upset you."

"Oh, no, my father didn't say anything to hurt me," Chrissy suddenly insisted, her eyes wide and convincing. Her whole expression softened, then her sadness shone through. "Not on purpose, anyways."

"Chrissy, you can tell me anything," I reminded gently. "I'll help in any way I can."

"Aw, thanks. Brooke," she grinned weakly. "But I don't think you can help me. I don't think anyone could help me."

"What's going on, Chrissy?"

Her eyes shot a glance towards me, and then a defeated pout crept upon her face. She gave a long sigh, then put her head in her hands.

"Brooke, my father wants me to seek child support from Eric," she told anxiously.

"What?" I questioned immediately. "From Eric? Does your father even know how terrible that man is?"

"He doesn't," Chrissy informed quietly. "He has no idea what Eric has been doing to me. But he thinks it's a good idea for him to pay child support if we're not going to get married, especially since I don't have a job right now."

I looked down at the table, my mind racing rapidly. Surely, Chrissy did need some money. Jack and Janet wouldn't be able to afford her part of the rent forever.

"Chrissy, I don't want to force you into anything," I began precariously. "But don't you think it would be a good idea for Eric to pay child support? You might not be able to afford this baby without it."

"God will provide," Chrissy insisted with a weak obstinacy.

"Well, Chrissy, maybe this is how God will provide," I whispered softly. "Through Eric."

"But that's sort of crazy," Chrissy replied defensively. "I mean, if I want Eric to pay child support, I'll have to confront him. And he'll hurt me, Brooke. He may even kill me."

"I think I know someone who would protect you," I smirked mysteriously.

An hour later, after I had informed Chrissy of my plan and convinced her of its impending success, we were outside of J. C. Burdock's office. Chrissy held on to my arm like a terrified animal. And, though I was almost as frightened as she was, I put on a strong front.

"Chrissy, you can do this," I whispered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's the right thing to do, for you, J. C., and the baby."

Even as Chrissy looked at me like a deer in a headlight, I knew that she understood her duty as a forthcoming mother. I walked her into the office and gave her a small push towards J. C.'s desk.

The successful business woman was just cleaning up her desk and getting ready to leave. She heard Chrissy and I as we entered, and she gave us a curious look.

"Chrissy?" she questioned, her eyes remaining on the anxious girl. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, J. C., er, I mean Mrs. Burdock," Chrissy started uneasily. "I just need to talk to you, if you don't mind."

"Well, sure," J. C. replied kindly. She suddenly gave a small grin. "You've gotten a bit bigger since I last saw you."

"I'm going on four months," Chrissy smiled, a bit of pride shining through her apprehension. "Actually, I sort of want to talk to you about that."

"Alright," J. C. answered casually, leaning on her desk in a relaxed manner. "Go on, then."

"Well, you see, Mrs. Burdock," Chrissy started, grabbing onto my arm again. I patted her on the back and took her hand. "A little more than four months ago, I started dating your son Eric."

"You were dating Eric?" J. C. asked with a surprised expression. "Why, I had no idea."

"Yes," Chrissy answered slowly. "Well, it was about that time…you see…I mean…it takes two people to make a baby."

"Well, of course," J. C. chuckled. Her cheery eyes suddenly opened widely, and she stared at Chrissy anxiously. "Chrissy, are you saying…"

"What Chrissy is trying to tell you, Mrs. Burdock," I interrupted merrily. "Is that she is carrying your grandchild."

The room went silent, and I could sense the terrible awkwardness that Chrissy felt. J. C.'s confusion wasn't too hard to sense either. But I felt some sort of peace about this situation, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Chrissy, you can't be serious," J. C. breathed, her eyes full of astonishment. "You're carrying…my grandchild?"

"Your granddaughter, to be specific," Chrissy whispered cautiously.

"And you're not joking?" J. C. questioned.

"I'm not," Chrissy informed, her squinted eyes showing her incredible fear.

"My…my granddaughter?" J. C. said eagerly. A smile started to erode on her stunned expression. "I'm going to be a grandmother?"

"Yes," Chrissy answered, her eyes now showing surprise. "You are."

"Oh my goodness!" J. C. exclaimed, rushing over to Chrissy and taking her hands. "Chrissy, you are definitely telling the truth?"

"She is!" I laughed as the thrill filled the room.

"Chrissy, this is incredible!" J. C. smiled. "But Eric hasn't said anything about your relationship."

"Well, we're not together right now," Chrissy told sadly, her gloomy expression coming back. "See, he took me to a hotel four months ago, and we…well, he broke up with me right afterwards. And when I told him I was pregnant, he said that no one could know. He told me it would ruin his career."

"My Eric said that?" J. C. asked, her motherly instinct started to scare me. "He couldn't have said that."

"Look, I don't expect you to believe me," Chrissy sighed. "You didn't believe me about the plaque. But I would never lie to you, Mrs. Burdock."

J. C. walked back over to her desk, giving an unhappy expression. She sighed glumly before picking up a beautiful, crystal plaque from her desk. I heard Chrissy give a small gasp.

"I know you would never lie to me, Chrissy," J. C. informed apologetically. "I should have known all along, really."

"That's your plaque!" Chrissy announced excitedly. "Where did you find it?"

"I found it at Eric's apartment this morning when I picked up some paperwork for his campaign," J. C. told, a bit of anger in her voice. "I was planning to talk to him about it later. I expected for there to be a simple explanation. But I guess it's a bit more complicated than a mother would want it to be."

"You mean that Eric framed Chrissy?" I questioned as a rage building up inside of me prohibited me from being silent.

"It appears that way," J. C. replied heatedly.

"I don't mean to make things harder on you, Mrs. Burdock," I started furiously. "But Eric has also been threatening Chrissy. He even confronted her physically, tearing her shirt. He's dangerous, Mrs. Burdock."

"He's really done all that?" J. C. asked, alarm and fury building up in her eyes. "Goodness, I'm sorry, Chrissy. Hasn't he spoken to you about playing a role in this child's life. What about child support?"

"I seriously doubt that," Chrissy answered, a new sort of empowerment in her voice. "He first wanted me to get an abortion."

"Oh, no!" J. C. suddenly shouted. "No son of mine will try to eliminate my first grandchild! Chrissy, I'm going to talk to Eric. Please, I hope you will allow me to be in this child's life."

"Of course," Chrissy promised enthusiastically. "I would love that."

"Thank you." J. C. walked over to Chrissy, gave a huge smile, and then embraced the soon to be mother of her grandchild. Chrissy looked a bit dazed at first, but then she hugged J. C. just as if she was her own mother.

"Oh, Chrissy, there's something I should tell you," J. C. whispered as she let go of Chrissy.

"What's that, Mrs. Burdock?"

"Well, first of all, you can call me J. C. again," J. C. grinned. "And, second of all, I expect you back to work first thing in the morning."

I looked over at Chrissy and witnessed her complete surprise. She was staring at J. C. as if she had just awarded her a million dollars. Of course, Chrissy appreciated everything in life with incredible innocence.

"Are you saying…"

"You've got your job back," J. C. smiled. "Goodness, I've missed you, Chrissy!"

"Oh, thank you, J. C.!" Chrissy exclaimed, giving her boss another hug. "This will help so much with the baby!"

"Speaking of the baby, send me any bills the doctor gives," J. C. smirked. "I'll take care of them, Chrissy. It's the least I can do as a grandmother, and the mother of a rude, conniving son."

"Oh, I'm sure he's not that bad," Chrissy insisted optimistically. "Well, besides the lying, violence, and…well, I guess he's pretty conniving."

"Chrissy, let me take you out to dinner," J. C. suggested enthusiastically.

"That sounds great!" Chrissy smiled.

"Brooke, will you join us?" J. C. asked, excitement in her eyes.

"I think I'll just head home," I grinned happily, observing the wonderful results of my plan. I quickly left Chrissy and J. C. to their frivolous talk about the baby. Blissfully, I headed home to tell Monica of the good news, and we chatted all night, drinking tremendous amounts of coffee. My heart was so content, and I was marvelously grateful to God for his wonderful blessings.


	10. Chapter 10: An Angel Can Miss People Too

**Chapter 10**

A month later, a terrible scene was playing out. Jack, Janet, Chrissy, and I surrounded Monica outside of the apartment building. Chrissy was in tears as she wrapped her arms around Monica and held onto her with a certain desperation that only a best friend would have. I felt a few imminent tears in my head as Jack held onto my hand comfortingly. Janet's lip quivered slightly as she stared at Monica with eyes filled with misery.

"Monica, do you really have to go?" Chrissy whined desolately.

The solemn angel's Irish grin was a little less cheery today as she looked at Chrissy. Somehow, though she radiated with an angelic presence, I could feel that she was slightly human at that moment. She pushed some hair back from Chrissy's face and gave a small smile.

"Oh, Chrissy, it will be okay," Monica insisted softly. "God has you in His arms. You don't need me. You need Him."

"I know," Chrissy sighed, wiping away a few tears. "But you're my friend, Monica. I'll miss you so much."

"You'll definitely see me again, though," Monica whispered, giving me a wink. "Perhaps not here, but…_there._ You know."

"Yeah," Chrissy beamed, her whole face lighting up with joy. "I can't wait."

I attempted to disappear behind Jack as tears started to pour from my eyes. As I watched Monica give her compassionate, loving glances to everyone, I understood that I was going to miss her terribly. She had been a rock for me when I was fretting about finances, when I was having Jack drama, and even when Mr. Roper wouldn't come over to fix our plumbing. Certainly, she had become the best friend I had ever had.

Suddenly, her eyes met with mine, and I swiftly tried to wipe away all of the tears running down my cheeks. But, as she pulled me out from behind Jack, and I just fell into her arms and wept freely. I felt her hand gently pat the back of my head as if I were a poor child, and definitely felt like one.

"It's okay, Brooke," I heard her whisper in her comforting Irish accent. "Didn't you hear what I just told Chrissy?"

"Yes, Monica," I sniffled. "But you've been so wonderful to have here. I just don't know what I'll do without you."

"Oh, you'll do fine," she grinned mischievously. "You don't need me as a roommate. You'll be able to afford everything."

"What?" I questioned, looking at her curiously. "I wasn't thinking about money."

"You see, I think you'll be moving out of that apartment very soon," she continued on merrily. "But you'll have a new roommate. Perhaps more than a roommate."

She glanced towards Jack, and I quickly looked over at him. He gave a small blush before looking at the ground. I couldn't help hoping Monica was giving me a very truthful glimpse into the future.

"But all within marriage, alright?" she implored with an anxious smile.

"Of course," I replied quietly.

After Monica gave everyone a last, warm grin, a red Cadillac convertible drove up the street and parked on the road beside us. Tess, Monica's enthusiastic "mother" was driving, and she had the same loving eyes as Monica. But her gaze was incredibly motherly towards Monica, and I wouldn't have doubted that they were related if their looks weren't so different.

"Oh, we'll miss you, Monica," Janet assured, giving the angel one last hug.

"I can't wait to see you again!" Chrissy exclaimed, following Janet in a huge hug for Monica.

"You've been a real swell friend, Monica," Jack smiled, pulling Monica in for a quick hug.

Finally, my angelic roommate with the kind eyes and the Irish accent looked at me. Her gentle beam created a certain moment where I could feel the love in which she was sent to us. She was an angel, a messenger of God who had delivered not only a message, but a whole new lifestyle for all of us. It was now clear what life was really supposed to be.

"I'm going to miss you so much," I insisted, wrapping my arms around her.

"Me too," she admitted softly. "An angel can miss people too, you know?"

"I believe it," I smiled. "Will we ever see you again before…well, you know."

"I certainly hope so," she replied kindly. "Goodbye, Brooke."

"Goodbye, Monica."

She squeezed my hand quickly and then entered the beautiful, red Cadillac. Her Irish grin shone upon the four of us once more before her and Tess drove off into the Santa Monica sunset.

"I'm sorry, did she just say that she was an angel?" Jack suddenly asked, leaning towards my ear.

"Maybe," I smirked. "But I wouldn't doubt her if she did."


End file.
